The Smoking Section
by Shawtymanex42
Summary: Cartman is a tortured soul, bursting with unrequited love while Kyle is neurotic, self loathing and sexually frustrated. Inspired by the amazing Jackson Waters song Center Of Attention. Rated M for sexual content. Hope you like and reviews are appreciated!


_"And I'll wait a lifetime to give in to you."_ - Jackson Waters, Center Of Attention.

_"We're kind of like the smoking section in high school. We're immature, keep to ourselves."_ -Matt Stone

~x~

If there's anything in this world that truly lasts forever, it's love and numbers.

For all you skeptics, love doesn't disappear like a bouquet of flowers from a magician's hand. Love just lies dormant, retreats, waiting for the next big eruption, the next roaring wave.

Numbers, annoyingly, go on forever smugly and reach no conclusion. They start to lose meaning after a while, morphing into nauseating figures or digital cyber vomit from an overheated calculator.

After 10, things start to lose control. Legend says one is the lonliest number and two can be just as bad. But at least it's company. Three, after all, is an envious, bitter crowd.

Four is flawless. And it's everywhere we go.

Four corners of the world.

North, South, East and West.

Four elements.

Earth, Water, Fire and Air.

Four horsemen of the Apocalypse.

Four corners to a square.

Four seventeen year old boys huddiling under a shelter and talking about nothing at all. Wet and shivering as the rain batters the slowly melting snow, lighting their cigarettes with shaky, impatient hands.

If you asked them how they ended up this way, they wouldn't be able to tell you. Elementary school was a stressful, bizarre nightmare, they were just magnetic little kids, a collective Bermuda triangle that just embraced all the crazy. One of them is immortal after all...

After a summer in Neverland the lost boys became teenagers caught up in the turbalent storm of adolescence, thrown into the snake pit of middle school. Naturally, they clung to each other, comfortable, friendly molasses and nobody could tear them apart. Even if they argued every now and then, they still, whisper this, needed each other.

With high school came the drinking, the girls, the parties, peer pressure, expectations and when you thought your voice couldn't get any more uneven, your growth spurts any more awkward, puberty and mother nature cranked it all up to fifty and you become a mass of testosterone, horniess and maddening self doubt. Everybody was judging you, picking the thread that held you together with sadistic carelessness.

What drew them to that seedy, supposedly unappealing and wretched part of the school also remains a mystery. It just seemed safe, quiet and unassuming. Isolated, abandoned and unwanted. It was warm in the summer and spring months, the Colorado sun seared holes through the grotesque and rotten and made it mildly charming. The garbage didn't seem to smell so bad, the rats didn't seem to scurry and squeak, the patheticness of it all seemed to vanish. When it rained, the shimmering, earthy glass and the damp, heavy sun concealed how unattractive their little hideout actually was. But Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Eric Cartman and Kenny McCormick had found their home. Perched at the back of the school, where the garbage bags, dumpsters and cafeteria waste were plentiful.

It was the perfect place for self-confessed loners like themselves. An ideal haunt for those four kids dubbed "quiet" and "kinda odd". Hey, if the angsty, indifferent expressions, troubled reputations, skinny jeans, piercings, Doc Martens, macabre, weird sense of humour and the fact that one of them killed his own father was enough to deter people then their little lair didn't seem like such a strange thing after all. What defines being "strange" anyway? It was something that Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny had been wondering for pretty much their entire lives. Was it a huge mechanised Barbara Streisand destroying your town or a con-artist attatching himself to a little boy's hand and convincing everybody that it's Jennifer Lopez?

* * *

Raining. Of course, it was January after all. Kyle prefered snow, no matter how many mornings you wake up and look out of the window to see your lawn suffocated with white, it still looked pretty, magical, childishly perfect... Snow just seemed to erase that bad taste in your mouth and offered you so many possibilities... Let's go sledding! Let's make a snowman! Dude, c'mon! We're gonna have a snowball fight!... Obviously, that was when they were little kids. Still, it was a nostalgic comfort.

The rain, irritated, angry and annoyingly obsessive, matched Kyle's mood. Constantly pounding against the windows and making a damn racket. Yep, kinda like the numb block of pain that was slicing Kyle's head. Fuck, he needed aspirin. Needed to be excused from this shitty class. The detailed drawings of anatomy and the paper cutout skeletons that hung from the ceilings told him that he was in Biology. Or nobody had taken down the Halloween decorations yet.

Kyle shouldn't have been angry, it was so dumb to be jealous and hurt by what Stan told him... It wasn't a big deal, right? Fuck it, it was a _huge_ deal. Even Stan knew that. That's why he ushered him into the boys bathroom before class started and apologised over and over until his words sounded like gibberish. And Kyle shrugged it off and accepted Stan's apology until he too sounded like he was talking gibberish.

**WHY?**

Kyle buried the once fine point of his pencil into the college ruled paper with the word. WHY? Why did he have to go and finally screw someone? WHY?

Sex. Things were so much simpler back when you didn't really understand the gravity of the concept, when you didn't obsess and worry and fantasise about it everyday, when people were meaningless, not objects of desire. Why couldn't Kyle go back to those days? Why was he seventeen? It fucking sucks.

Kyle never really thought about sex until he was fourteen and Kenny (who had been buliding a pretty impressive collection of titty magazines since he was eight) proudly annouced at the bus stop one cold Monday morning that he had fucked some girl, who's name Kyle had now forgotten. But he never forgot the feeling of disgust and bewilderment and most of all, fear. Kyle has a lot of panic attacks and that was one of his biggest. The one that still makes his stomach lurch and his palms feverish when he thinks about it. Granted, fourteen is a young age, but Kyle knew that they wouldn't stay that way forever. Pretty soon, him and Stan and Cartman would turn fifteen then sixteen then seventeen... They would get increasingly impatient and antsy about the fact that their virginities were weighing them down and they would do something about it.

It's not that Kyle didn't want to have sex, he thought it would feel pretty great, but he just didn't feel pretty great about himself. _Why would anybody look at me and find me attractive?_ That question glimmered across the unsure waters of his mind about ten times a day. It was easy for Stan and Kenny, girls liked them. Kenny could probably just wink at a girl and pop her cherry, he was so fucking perfect and Aryan looking, with his cerulean eyes and his golden tangle of hair, plus he had piercings and a criminal record and that general mystery about him that every girl fantasies about, even though they would hate to admit it. Stan was just as lucky, with his crooked, shy smile and his deep Cobalt eyes that always looked sincere. If Kenny was the wet dream then Stan was Prince Charming. And both of them knew they were good looking, that's what Kyle hated and envied. The assurance that they would get laid because they were so God damn attractive is what Kyle wanted. He was too neurotic, awkward and confused for his own good. He didn't even know what he wanted, a boy? A girl? It was all too much. He hated the way he looked, luckily his acne was pretty mild but his skin was still too pale and he could feel it sizziling like a God damn vampire in the summer. He was tall and lean, too lean to be dashing or strapping or whatever people found sexy and romantic... The only thing he really prided himself on was his hair, which wasn't as frizzy as it used to be, it was softer now, an abundance of scarlet ringlets that framed his face nicely. But he hated his nose and how it seemed to encompass his entire face, hooked and uneven. His index finger trailed the bumpy bridge with disgust.

He couldn't even take comfort in the fact that Cartman was still a virgin. Because girls talked about him too, ever since he hit a growth spurt in the seventh grade and started playing football, he just, well, blossomed. He wasn't totally skinny, he was still chubby but in an endearing way and his intimidating height and broad shoulders evened him out. In short, he was the arrogant bad boy with interesting, striking features who had the ability to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder before fucking you and not calling you the next day. That reminded him of the party, oh God...

That party was another shattering blow for Kyle, another stern reminder that the clock was ticking. He saw a girl lead Cartman upstairs, she was blonde, with a nice ass, older than them, from out of town. That was last year. Kyle cut the root of his stinging, helpless tears with cheap beer, poured into a red party cup. His mouth trembled and his eyes grew damp as he silently begged Cartman to come back down. But Hell, what difference did it make?

Still, his panic attacks began to flare up again and his anxiousness was a machine gun that refused to cease fire. Would he be the last one to have sex? Would he even have sex at all? Would he die a virgin? It was driving him insane.

Stan stayed over his house for the entire weekend after that party and over a pizza Kyle finally admitted that he was starting to feel the pressure of losing his virginity. After all, Stan was his only ally in this situation, since he had yet to have sex with someone too.

_"Don't worry about it, Kyle. To be honest, I'm not really interested in the whole thing. It's not a big deal, right?"_ That was a lie.

_"Yeah, totally, I just don't want to be left out, that's all. It's not that I'm desperate, or anything..."_ That was an even bigger lie.

_"Well, if it makes you feel better I'm not gonna fuck somebody anytime soon."_

_"Okay, cool."_

Cut to today. January 17th. When Stan sheepishly announced to his three closest friends that he had finally "done it". He couldn't even meet Kyle's eyes, his face burning with shame. Kyle pretended to be "proud" (not even sure if that was the emotion he was supposed to be going for) and didn't show just how crushed and angry and stupidly jealous he was and he scolded himself inwardly for being so God damn childish.

_"Dude I'm so sorry, I know how you feel about this kind of stuff but I didn't do it to spite you or anything like that, it just happened."_

_"Stan, it's fine, it's not like we're wearing fucking purity rings. You can do whatever you want, dude. We don't need to consult each other on everything."_ Though Kyle's life would be a lot easier if he had that policy with, well, everyone.

_"So you're fine?"_

_"I'm great"_ Another lie.

_"You're my best friend."_

_"I know."_

Now what was he supposed to do? Besides get his dick wet... Uch, he hated that saying.

He didn't know and he was too upset and flustered to even think straight. _Why can't I get some fucking aspirin?_ **WHY?**

So this was it. Rock Bottom. The barrell of the gun. Make or break. Though Kyle would put his money on the latter. If anybody was going to be a winner, he was fairly certain it wouldn't be him.

_Give me a fucking white flag_ Because Kyle Broflovski was surrendering.

* * *

There was something about the way Kyle looked today that made Cartman pick up his pencil and start to sketch the bored, exasperated looking Jew who wasn't paying attention to anything that was going on around him. He'd been staring at Kyle for a good fifteen minutes and he would probably spend most of his day doing just that. If Cartman had to plot his average school day in a pie chart it would look like this:

80% Kyle related things. Mostly ripping on him, staring at him, thinking of him and if he happens to be feeling bored and restless and Kyle looks particularly attractive (which is practically every God damn day) then he'll sketch little doodles of his darling Jew.

15% arguing with other people and getting kicked out of class.

5% actually learning something, usually things which are completely irrelevant and not even on the curriculum.

Cartman didn't give a shit about lipids or enzymes or whatever that dusty old cocksucker they called a teacher was talking about. He did, however care about Kyle's soft, scarlet hair that highlighted his already immaculate bone structure. The acidic, lucid Emerald of his irises chased the captivating red shade around a hypnotic whirlpool. And to Cartman it just seemed to be a mirage that made Kyle even more tempting. Jesus Christ, he fucking wanted him so badly.

His gaze is never too far away from Kyle, his pencil gently gliding over the crisp, white paper like it's second nature, creating wispy, grey hills and clouds that resembles Kyle's beautiful curls.

Cartman was never really sure about much in his life. He knew he wasn't alone, everybody feels that way, especially if you're living in this fucked up town, but he knew he could handle the confusion, the wondering, the empty parts of his life that seemed to be dealt to him like a bad hand at poker, right under his nose. Totally unaware. But he knew he'd be fine. He was blessed with dangerous arrogance that made him think he could do anything. But the one thing he was sure of, like waking up from a dream, was that he was in love, rather infatuated with Kyle. And he couldn't remember a time where he felt different.

The formula, the rule, was so simple when they were kids. Unbreakable and airtight. They hated each other. Fought constantly. Good vs Evil. Fatass vs Jew. But even though Cartman hated Kyle, truly, undoubtedly, passionately hated him with every muscle in his chubby little body, he still felt his heart rate increase, his smile grow dreamier and even more wicked when Kyle gave him all that angry, undivided attention. He still thought about Kyle at every convienient moment, he still ached for him when Kyle stormed off in a fit of Jew rage. He still wanted to beat him to a pulp and then kiss his bruises better.

But Cartman thought that was how he was supposed to feel about someone like Kyle. His worst enemy. He wouldn't want to feel any other way. His heart was very stubborn and possesive. Only ever beating for Kyle. It's steady, constant rythym only murmuring Kyle's name.

If Cartman learnt one thing about the birds and the bees it was this; that love and lust are two very different and yet very similar things. It was just another frustrating paradox in a world that was already so complicated and messy. Love is an emotion that can take a good beating, never falters, it's a fighter, determined and proud. Lust is a narcotic that can never truly satisfy you, the high is fucking terrific, addictive, consuming and fulfilling in ways you could never imagine, but it all wears off pretty quickly and all you're left with is amnesia.

However, lust and love can fuel one and other, be the seed from which a sturdy, timeless oak tree can grow. And when Cartman was old enough to understand exactly what lust meant and what it could do to a person, combined with the juggernaut that was his unmoving, ruthless love for Kyle then he knew that he had lost control. His heart was beating, bloody and graphically alive in Kyle's hand and the dumbass didn't even notice.

Cartman concentrated on shading Kyle's eyes, the dark, brooding greens became smudged coals, the gentler, zealous hues were elusive, shimmering greys and his pupils were abysses that Cartman was terrified he would collapse into.

When Cartman and Kyle were fourteen they had a fight, which was really nothing new. It happened a lot more than Stan and Kenny were proud to admit. The fact that Cartman and Kyle still argued so fervently pissed them off to no end. It always had. Cartman got home that night and as he tried to sleep his thoughts, as usual, would always paint a picture of Kyle, palpable, in his bleary vision. Their recent fight playing over and over in his head, those hot, sizziling, newly discovered jewels of arousal, burning madly for Kyle, siren's voices whispered for Cartman to act on it, nurture it and humour it, just to see what happened. With his face heated, his palm slick and his mind melting into half-formed protests he fumbled into the darkest shadows of his sheets, felt that hardened, heavy erection in his hand... That couldn't belong to him, after fourteen years of fucking possessing that damn organ it never seemed this big.

A gentle, curious stroke and a breath that trembled those infamous four letters K-A-H-L and something in him ignited.

Frenzied, ecstatic, desperate and hungry, he thought manically about Kyle's words. His shouts. His cries of enthusiastic submission. His thighs. His bare, pale, smooth skin. His lips. His teeth. His full, plump, lusciously pink lips and how they looked so delicious to kiss, bite, suck...

Cartman drew the familiar, crooked, adorable angle of Kyle's nose. That was one of his favourite parts of Kyle's body to sketch. Such an interesting nose, so unusual and fitting for someone so very un-ordinary. Cartman was a good artist, creative in his own subtle way. And he guessed that Kyle was his muse.

That was when he blew his first load for Kyle. His tongue, throat, dry. His mind emptied. His smile unsure and frightened but his hand wet, overall he was satisfied. Very satisfied.

Some may call his infatuation with Kyle an obsession. You know, if he actually told anybody about his feelings. Hell no, far too risky. He wanted Kyle all to himself and if that meant not being able to get this nagging, excruciating confession off his chest then so be it. In his mind, it played like a love affair, except obviously, very unrequited.

He would be the arrogant Montague to Kyle's fiesty Capulet.

The angry Heathcliff to Kyle's equally hot tempered Cathy.

The sociopathic Harry to Kyle's very moral Sally.

Cartman smiled to himself as he perfected Kyle's nuances without any errors. The thoughtful yet serious frown that Kyle wore when he was distracted or bored, the way his posture was still quite straight and never lazy. Kyle's back was a smooth slope that still retained firmess, totally different from the half-dead zombies who slumped shapelessly in their chairs.

The last thing Cartman drew was Kyle's arms. One slender arm resting on the table, lithe fingers subconsciously tracing the well-worn grooves of the splintered, old desk while the other arm was propped up and holding his head in his hand. His wonderful hand. Kyle gestured with his hands a lot when he ranted at Cartman and he used them so elegantly. He always left Cartman mesmerised.

* * *

"Why do we even show up to these stupid parties, anyway? Nobody talks to us or acknowledges our exsistence..." Stan muttered, all four of them were practically melting into Craig Tucker's uncomfortably deep couch, damn thing was like a fucking bean bag chair.

"To drink?" Kenny shrugged, though the quality of alcohol at this party wasn't very good.

"We could easily do that at home" Kyle replies, dying for a smoke, his eyes trailed over to the patio door. Ah, freedom. Pretty soon he was going to have to go outside and get away from the writhing, drunken swarm of teenagers and have some peace and quiet. The thumping music was slowly wriggiling its way into his stomach like some kind of tapeworm and making him feel nauseous.

"Dude, we go to these things to get laid" Cartman says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Immeadiately they all hook their attention to the intoxicated dancing girls. "Let's face it, these parties are our only exposure to chicks."

"Maybe for you unlucky bastards, but not for me" Kenny smirks.

"Really? And where do you find these girls?" Kyle laughs, elbowing Kenny in the ribs before the blond boy winks and replies "I have my sources."

After a few more claustrophobic minutes, Kyle realised he couldn't take it anymore. God damn, it was hot in here... And noisy... And infuriating.

"I'm going for a smoke" Kyle mumbled, not sure if anybody heard him.

Cartman balled his fists in anger at the fact that he was watching Kyle leaving in such a lovesick way._ Get a fucking hold of yourself, he's only going outside. He'll come back_. Kyle did look good tonight, he was wearing these Levi skinny jeans that Cartman loved, Kyle's legs looked so much longer and his ass looked fucking incredible. Cartman had been watching Kyle all night, there really wasn't anything else to do except smile happily when Kyle laughed, stare dreamily when Kyle was lost in thought or get way too turned on when Kyle licked the beer away from his full, flushed lips. _There's nothing stopping you from following him outside. Hell, he might even get pissed off and start an argument and that's never a bad thing..._

Kyle felt some weird sense of relief when he stepped out into the cold night, the patio slabs were prickiling with frost and the grass was smothered by snow. Thick white clumps of ice were wearing down the tree's gaunt, bare branches. He loved winter, it made him appreciate summer a lot more. Kyle thought you couldn't really experience the seasons unless you lived somewhere like South Park, where mountains surrounded you, nature was still evident and the stars weren't overshadowed by big city lights or skyscrapers.

He somehow made it through the eager, oblivious crowd of shitfaced kids, unharmed. The achievement was made even greater by the fact that he was kind of drunk himself and his co-ordination was way off. A couple of guys stumbled into him, some girls grabbed him by his shirt and moaned, begged him to dance. Hell no, Kyle didn't dance. So he politely declined, wondering if his inability to dance was somehow ruining his chances of ever getting laid. _Shut up, you're being stupid._

Kyle fished into his pocket and pulled out his trusty lighter, him and Stan bought matching ones, he always found that funny. He had two Marlboro's left, which was kind of a bummer but he always had that stash under his bed which he kept in an old Vans shoe box, so it wasn't all bad. He placed the cigarette between his dry, cold lips and with shivering hands clumsily let the flame of his lighter kiss the tip. Whenever he smoked he always thought back to when he was nine and him, Stan Cartman and Kenny burned the school down (completely on accident) because they were smoking.

Naturally, Kyle hated it back then, it made his throat ache and his stomach turn but now he relished the taste, the satisfaction and ease of taking a drag and watching the smoke make shapes in the air.

"I didn't think you were the type to smoke alone, Jewboy. You're not that cool." A familar voice sliced Kyle's peaceful silence.

"Jesus Christ, Cartman! You scared the fucking shit out of me!" Kyle snaps, his face flushing with embarassment and anger, worsening when he hears Cartman's smug laugh.

Cartman studies Kyle for a while, smiling at how Kyle holds his cigarette and how he takes indulgant, deep drags. It's really kind of adorable and sexy at the same time. Kyle freezes up instantly when Cartman leans against the wall, actually kind of close to him. He didn't know why it made him feel nervous, it just did.

"What are you doing here?" Kyle muttered.

"What, am I not allowed to stand here? It's a free country, right?" Cartman replies obnoxiously, his eyes fixed on Kyle, half lidded.

"Yeah, I guess" Kyle mumbles bitterly, childishly. Cartman bites his lip to hold back his laughter, he loved how he could push Kyle's buttons so easily, that he knew how Kyle operated and could use that to his advantage.

"Do you want one?" Kyle begrudingly asked, half heartedly extending the last cigarette he had to Cartman.

"Marlboro's?" Cartman asked, rolling his eyes and sniggering in derision "Dude, I don't smoke Marlboro's."

"What do you smoke, then?" Kyle snapped. God, that son of a bitch was arrogant.

"Pall Mall" Cartman replies before magically producing a pack from his jeans pocket.

"Good for you" Kyle mutters through his precious Marlboro, not even caring if Cartman replies. He would be more than happy for them to just smoke in silence.

"Why are you standing out here, anyway?" Cartman asks as he lights his cigarette.

"Parties kind of piss me off. Especially Craig's parties because there's always shady people lurking around. I have a sneaking suspicion that they'll shoot me if I don't buy whatever drug they're selling." Kyle replies.

Cartman shakes his head and laughs so Kyle politely smiles back. Their eyes briefly meet, short enough for it be friendly and comforting but not long enough for it to be awkward.

"What are you doing out here, fatass?"

"I missed my Jew" Cartman jokes. And for some reason those words sent a shiver to travel down Kyle's spine and his smile to waver with warped affection. It was the beer, it had to be the beer...

"Oh, right" Kyle whispers, trying to dismiss the entire thing without looking like a complete jackass.

After a comfortable, distracted silence, Kyle blurts out "Do we really come to these parties to get laid?" He grits his teeth at asking such a stupid question, but he's too stubborn to not want an answer.

"Well, I don't know." Cartman shrugs and fidgets uncomfortably "It was just a suggestion"

Another silence. This time it's edgy and anxious and dying to be broken with some logical or sensible comment that can diffuse all this stupid tension.

"I mean, we don't come to these parties because we're dying to fuck someone, it's not like, a mission to fuck or anything like that, right?" Cartman begins to explain and Kyle nods along in agreement.

"But, that's just what happens at parties. People get drunk and horny and carried away... Statistics would show that most kids in our school have lost their virginities or had the majority of their sexual experiences at parties. That's just how it is... I mean, the first person I fucked was a girl at a party and you're probably in the same boat, Jewboy."

Cartman wasn't an idiot and though his lovesick, twisted mind would love to think that him and Kyle were going to make passionate, mind-blowing love someday, odds were that he and Kyle would go their seperate ways without so much as a kiss. He also knew that Kyle wasn't saving himself for Cartman, desperately waiting for his metaphorical cherry to be popped by his worst enemy. Kyle was so attractive that he had had probably fucked a lot more people than Cartman had and intended on fucking more. That's just the way life was, something after years of unrequited love he had grown to accept... That this love, this fantastic affair, would stay one sided forever.

Now, Kyle could've just nodded along, lied, said nothing at all. Instead, he sighed defeatedly and muttered nervously, trembiling in dread "Well, not exactly."

"Huh, I guess you're the exception that proves the rule."

"No, I mean" Kyle begins before closing his eyes and biting his lip. What the fuck was he doing? Why was he going to tell Cartman, _Cartman_ of all people his secret? Share his biggest fear? "I mean, I haven't exactly had sex with anyone... Yet..."

And there it was. Relief. Blind hope. Cartman couldn't believe it.

"Dude, you're a virgin?" Cartman asks, the question stirring his arousal, a white heat gnawing at the pit of his stomach. It was such a weird notion to become so excited and thrilled by.

"Yes" Kyle snaps, suddenly not giving a fuck what Cartman thought, what anybody thought. What was the fucking point of caring? "Yes I'm a virgin, okay? So you can rip on me and do whatever because I honestly don't give a shit anymore!"

Cartman could. He knew he could. He could use his sharp, articulate tongue to craft the nastiest insults he could think of and not stop until Kyle punched him in the face, but he didn't. Because he did feel some affectionate, protective sympathy for Kyle, so he sighed, heaving his shoulders heavily and prepared himself to comfort the visibly upset Jew.

"Kahl, I'm not going to rip on you. It's okay." Cartman smiles softly, so gentle that Kyle wants to let himself believe that Cartman's being sincere. But he wasn't stupid.

"No it's not" Kyle sighs, tears stinging his eyes in frustration and injustice "It's not okay." Kyle says louder, stamping his foot and letting these hot tears run because he hates himself, hates himself, fucking hates himself for so many things... Currently it was because he was crying over his virginity in front of Cartman.

"Don't cry" Cartman whispers, persuasive and soothing, slowly grabbing Kyle's wrist and dragging him into his embrace. And because Kyle felt so pathetic and that he couldn't sink any lower he allowed himself to hug Cartman and cry into his t-shirt.

"Dude, calm down. It's not that big of a deal, I promise" Cartman murmurs into Kyle's hair. He couldn't believe he was holding him right now, feeling his heartbeat, his lungs struggiling to scrape for breath through these helpless tears. He loved seeing Kyle angry and pissed off and so spine-meltingly defiant and tough but seeing him vulnerable was something else. It was fragile and tender, something that made Cartman feel way more alive.

"It is, Cartman! You know God damn well that it is!" Kyle shouts angrily, comforted by Cartman's warmth and how he seemed so big and protective, it was unnerving but somewhat of a guilty pleasure.

Maybe it was the fact that they were in such close proximity, maybe it was because Kyle was vulnerable and needy, maybe it was because Cartman finally felt in control and confident of his situation with Kyle that he asked, with no fear or hesitancy;

"Look, if you're so hung up on losing your virginity then maybe you and I should, you know..."

"What?" Kyle asked, sniffiling pitifully.

Cartman rolled his eyes and continued "Have sex..."

Obviously Kyle laughed, he had too, right? Cartman was so clearly joking... Or at least Kyle hoped he was. Cartman wished he was because that was so not the reaction he was hoping for. But what was he expecting? _"Okay, why the hell not? Oh God, I'm so hard for you, Eric. Fuck me right here."_ Yep, he felt like a total douchebag right now.

"Why are you laughing? I'm being serious, Jew" Cartman figured he had nothing left to lose and plus he was too proud to back down now.

The smile disappeared from Kyle's face as he untangled himself from Cartman's embrace. Jesus Christ monkey balls he wasn't joking. That closeness, that security all vanished. It was just, well, disbelief and a plethora of other emotions that Kyle was almost certain he had never felt before. And they didn't feel good.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?!" Kyle shouted and though Cartman should be drinking in Kyle's stunning, fervently angry demeanour, he was too nervous, too rejected, too caught up in this fight. _Just try and convince him. No, shut up, you can't do that! He's obviously going to kick you in the nuts and tell you to get the fuck out of here... But how do you know? He hugged you, he cried in front of you... Maybe, maybe, maybe... No, it's stupid. You're retarded. Just try, I'm begging you, it's been nine years of wondering, you have to try._

"Nothing" Cartman shrugged, though his insides were withering and the need to vomit was becoming more and more urgent.

"You can't be serious!" Kyle snaps bitterly, shaking his head and running a quivering hand through his hair. "No, no, you're doing this because you hate me! You're just trying to make me look stupid! This is just one of your unfunny, cruel, practical jokes that only sick bastards like you could laugh at! But this isn't funny, Cartman! So leave me alone, just leave!"

Kyle couldn't stop the feverish, parasitc words from jumping out of his mouth, they seemed to be thriving and producing just to ensure the survival of Kyle's pride. _Oh no, he's not going to win this, that fucker is not going to win this..._ Kyle didn't know if it was adrenaline that was making him bloat on this dangerously false confidence but he wouldn't let Cartman have the last word. He wouldn't make him look like even more of a fool. Even if this cannibalistic electricity would end up devouring him.

Cartman locks his jaw and grabs Kyle by his t-shirt, the force and the speed of which it all happened made the two boys feel like the ground, the world, everybody inside Craig's crammed house had collapsed underneath them. The carpet pulled out from under their feet.

Kyle whimpered, practically squeaked at the air being forcefully sucked out of his lungs. Cartman held Kyle like he was a corpse, dangiling and dependant, totally under Cartman's thumb. Oh shit. That noise, that cute, struggiling noise was enough for Cartman's gilded eyes to brighten, lick his lips.

_Oh fuck, he's going to kiss me_ "Don't you dare" Kyle spits. Managing to find some strength from somewhere. Cartman knew that Kyle wasn't totally weak, far from it.

"I won't" Cartman growls. A brief, understanding smile flashed across their faces. And oh dear God, was that, oh no, it couldn't be... A spark?

"Listen" Cartman begins calmly, watching unfazed as Kyle struggled. "If you interrupt me or try anything, I'm going to have to kill you."

Kyle stopped struggiling then. Because he knew Cartman meant it. When it comes to stuff like this, Cartman would never lie. If Cartman said he was going to kill you, then he would.

"Good boy" Cartman grinned evilly. "This isn't a trick or a joke. I'm being serious. If you're so God damn hung up about being a virgin then you can have sex with me and I won't tell anybody, I promise. You have my word, because I don't usually make a lot of promises, but when I do, I tend to stick by them. But it's your choice."

Kyle felt the planets align and the Earth swing back into orbit when Cartman roughly pushed him away, releasing him from his grip. He could still taste the tobacco on Cartman's breath, feel the heat of his mouth, the conflicted emotion in his eyes and the deep, violent burn of his fingers against his heaving chest.

"So, what do you say?" Cartman asked. Totally different to that entity that had terrified Kyle mere seconds ago.

"No" Kyle whimpered, before finding his strength again. "No! Are you fucking crazy?!"

_Told you, idiot_ Cartman remained stoic. As much as he possibly could.

"Not at all" Cartman smirks, edging closer to Kyle. He had to call his bluff, he just had to. "It seems to me that if you really are so desperate-"

"I'm not desperate" _Who are you kidding? Of course you are. And now he knows it too._

"Then you would sleep with anyone and I know how much it would kill you to graduate without ever getting laid. I'm not saying this for my sake, I'm saying it solely for yours... And if it's any consolation..."

Cartman steps closer so he's centimetres away from Kyle's mouth. His lips skim the side of Kyle's neck, without any protest from the terrified, shell-shocked redhead. "I've been told I'm very, very good."

Kyle jumps back, crossing his arms and covering his chest, feeling like he's just been invaded, figured out. Fuck, this was torture. Why was his groin calling out to be touched? Why was he burning in these sacred, sordid places? Why couldn't he stop thinking about Cartman's words? And that sweet, hot condensation on his neck.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Is this some kind of service you're providing or something?" Kyle asks, his voice shrill and flustered and if his hands would stop shaking he would punch Cartman in his smug mouth "Oh my God, you're a hooker!"

"Like mother, like son, right?" Cartman quips.

"That's not funny"

"Look" Cartman begins, stepping over to Kyle once more and sighing when Kyle flinches defensively. "Just think about it, okay?" Cartman says as smoothly as he possibly can.

And as Kyle watches Cartman walk away and disappear into the swollen crowd of people, he knows he will think about it. He wouldn't be able to stop. And he wouldn't be able to get Cartman out of his head... Or out of his inappropriate thoughts.

* * *

God damn, Cartman hated Kenny. But he hated Tequila even more.

What happened after he left Kyle out on the patio is all a blur. Oh right, he walked up to Kenny, grabbed him by his shoulder, dragged him through the hallway and pushed him out of the house.

_"Eric, what the fuck is going on?"_

_"This party is bullshit and I need to celebrate, so come on we're gonna find some Tequila."_

_"Celebrate? Are you high or something?"_

_"No, dumbass I'm not high! And I can't tell you what I'm celebrating, it's top secret."_

_"You truly are a man of mystery, Eric Cartman... Wait, what about Stan and Kyle?"_

_"Fuck Stan and Kahl, they have each other don't they? Now let's go..."_

What was he celebrating again? Oh right, the slight, almost miniscule possibility of Kyle losing his virginity to him. God, why couldn't Kenny be a responsible guy? Why couldn't he have just taken Cartman home? Why the fuck did he have to find Tequila?

It was 2:00 PM and Cartman had been awake for approximately an hour and forty five minutes. This was an unusually early morning for him on the weekend. But he couldn't sleep when the slighest ray of sun ripped through his weary eyes.

His breath tasted of vomit and, guess what, Tequila. He had heard his mom call up to him and ask if he was alright, so chipper and nauseating to him right now. He groaned back that he didn't feel too good, so lunch (rather, _brunch_) was served in bed today. The tray and slowly molding leftovers staring at him judgementally from his dresser.

He felt like he must have undergone some back alley brain surgery last night, it wouldn't surprise him. It hurt to even blink or move his head. He wanted to call Kenny and ask exactly what happened last night, but Kenny was probably in the same situation as him. Plus, if he heard that white trash piece of shit's voice he'd become murderous. There were seemingly no ramifications for killing Kenny, it wasn't as if it was permanant or anything... It wouldn't be murder, maybe a heavily violent beating.

Cartman knew what kept the doctor away and it wasn't an apple or an orgasm (though the latter doesn't hurt), it was the sweet, musky taste of Pall Mall. His old friend.

A cigarette hung loosely from his mouth, stale incense filling the room and making his sinuses weep. Uch, he felt like shit. He was sprawled out on his bed, ashtray on his chest, the mauled remains of his previous cigarettes continued to wilt.

The boys went to a Denver Broncos game two years ago, naturally Cartman had to buy a t-shirt, a foam finger and a novelty mini football. Blue and orange of course. He was throwing that football up in the air mindlessly as Kyle pushed his way into his thoughts.

If it was one thing Cartman despised about being this age, it was the constant need to be put into catergories and be labelled so heavily. Whether that be labelled academically, (a total genius or a complete failure) labelled socially (popular jock or creepy loser) and even sexually, gay or straight. That one kind of irritated him the most. He had sex with girls, but he didn't think he was straight. He had been in love with one of his best friends/worst enemy for years and had sex with guys, but he didn't know if he was gay. He was just, well, him. And surely that mattered more. Whether his preference was cock or pussy shouldn't have made a difference.

Maybe he was Kyle-sexual? _Huh, that's lame. But it makes sense..._ After all, his feelings for Kyle were the only thing that we was sure of.

Still, though he had fucked a total of seven people, he hadn't really enjoyed the experience as much as other people seemed to. Maybe his expectations were too grand, too romanticised, too influenced by classic love stories or illusional porn. _You're doing it with the wrong person and you know it._

It was the love and lust conundrum all over again. He could meet a nice, hot girl or an attractive, cool guy (both of them with the ability to give good head) and Cartman could enjoy it, use his best moves, get carried away in the sugar-coated, lusty fairytale, he could moan enthusiastically and blow a pretty heavy and satisfactory load but afterwards he would feel himself drain, feel himself disconnect and know that... _This would feel a million times better if they were Kyle. But I'm never going to have him and that fucking sucks but, hey, so does life._

In the hungry, curious moments of the night he would let the aching, dirty questions flow, making up the answers as he went along. What would Kyle look like naked? Would he want to be fucked? Would he want me to go slow or fast? Hard or gentle? Would he have a big cock? Would he have certain erogynous zones that would drive him crazy with one swift lick, kiss or bite?

And these imaginary trysts would be so much more fufilling than those hot, flustered fucking sessions with nameless dudes and girls. To him, Kyle was amazing, a siren and their bodies worked so well, they looked so good writhing and moaning together... These thoughts were even better now that Cartman knew Kyle was a virgin. He could teach Kyle, guide him and help him before Kyle would take control and test out his new, totally amazing skills.

If only... _I wonder if he's still considering my offer_...

Cartman knew it was a one in a billion chance. But in South Park, where things that had a one in a billion chance of happening, actually happened, then it didn't seem like such a lost cause after all.

* * *

Kyle liked to think that, when he wasn't having panic attacks, he was a rational and level-headed guy. Sometimes it was easy to not let himself get freaked out by intrusive thoughts or events that he had no control over (mostly caused by people who had no respect for his fragile, neurotic state AKA Cartman). Other times, when the panic had contagiously, rapidly spread to every part of his body, well, it was less difficult to convince himself that he was going to be okay.

So he understood why he couldn't get Cartman's offer out of his head. It was a pretty fucked up offer and it would continue to frighten and confuse him for some time (or so he thought). So he didn't beat himself up over it.

What he couldn't stand however, was how excited and enjoyable he found the thought of him and Cartman having sex. Nope, he couldn't stand that, it was like an itch that he was aching to scratch. But no, he wouldn't. He refused to let his crippiling sexual frustration and overall hopelessness make him sink that low, he would not jerk off to the thought of being fucked by Eric Cartman. Nonononononono.

No matter how good he thought it would be. _Damn it..._

As far as Kyle was concerned, even if he did jerk off about it, both conclusions would be bad. He could either not enjoy it, find it too weird and gross and then forever have to live with the shame (and mental image). However, if he enjoyed it and it was one of the best (self made) orgasms he had ever had, then in his mind that equated to him declaring proudly "Yes, I would love to have Cartman's cock in my ass"

Kyle moaned and shuddered at the thought. _Wait, no I can't do that._ He let his mind drift off easily. Kyle imagined that Cartman's cock would be seven inches, possibly eight, he was just going on his gut instinct, because he had never really seen it, because before he didn't really want to see it, but now... Now he couldn't help but... Eight. Definitely eight. Thick. It had to be thick. It had to be in proportion with the rest of Cartman's body, right? Well, Kyle thought so.

Kyle never fingered himself, he had never had anything in his ass before. Still, he had a very vivid imagination. Without a second thought, he closed his eyes and heard his laboured, hard breathing hitting a pillow, felt the pressure of his knees digging into a mattress. _What am I doing? Stop, stop, stop_ He felt the closeness of Cartman's body behind him, the intimdating prescence he cast _This isn't real_ The warm, moist, tingle of Cartman's groan in his ear _Jesus Christ, I do have a vivid imagination_... And in real life, Kyle felt a quivering, hesitant smile spread across his face. He felt Cartman's hand reach out for his, his fingers splaying over Kyle's, reassuring but daunting, because Kyle knew that Cartman was arrogant enough to think that he could rock Kyle's world. _Hell, I'm starting to think he could_. Then a tremor, a wave of everything happening at once, putting Kyle to the test _Why does this feel so real? So good? I fucking hate him_. His knuckles creaked when Cartman's palm crushed against them. Kyle cried in his head, depraved and relieved, reverberating throughout his body, the real life Kyle squirmed. But it was Cartman's satisfied, hungry groan that freaked him out, how that single note of pleasure could make his cock twitch, his arousal seize up, excited and alert.

In his head, his fucked up little head, his stupid imagination, that wonderful, thick cock, those exquisite eight inches stretched him, filled him, made his knees shake and his entire being buckle. Literally driving him crazy.

Alone in his room, Kyle even lifted his hips, taking this imaginary cock as deep as he possibly could, allowing his body to have more, greedy and selfish. A gasp, a shaky, soft cry felt liquid and hot in his dry mouth. For the first time, feeling dirty and whorrish _Snap out of it, you're better than this! No, fuck it, I'm going to enjoy it_ His fingers tore into the mattress, convincing himself he couldn't handle it _Cartman, please, I don't think I can take it. Come on, Jewboy. Sure you can_ His cock was swelling in his boxers. _Don't open your eyes_.

Kyle awoke from his daydream, crashing onto the mattress and leaving behind any trace of what he did. Frightened that some small, hidden flame was still flickering somewhere. _See, I told you so._

Kyle licked his lips, gasping for this humid air. His skin tasted salty. Fuck, he was so worked up right now, his erection begging for relief. _Forget it, no. God, I need a shower_. I need to wash Cartman's imaginary cooties off of me. That mental image refused to let up. Cartman fucking him senselessly, over and over and over... And before Kyle knew it, his hand was skidding over his boxers, the material damp with sweat, his eager fingers completely ignoring his throbbing cock and instead _Well, if you're gonna sink this low_... skimming that untouched opening, which tightened instantly, scared of the unfamiliar. _I know how you feel, buddy._

The whole idea of Cartman fitting his dick in a space so small seemed ridiculous, it was actually rather funny to Kyle. So he laughed. What else was he supposed to do? Except laugh, deranged and petrified. But then he wondered why the hell should Cartman get to fuck him? Surely Kyle had the ability to be the one pounding ass? He had a cock and he (sort of) knew how to use it... But would Cartman let him to do that? He probably saw it as a sign of weakness. He'd probably say "_No fucking way! I'm not letting you put your schlong in my ass, Kahl!_"

Huh, _Kahl_.

Kyle never realised how strange it was until now. How Cartman's voice still mutated words like that, his entire vocabulary was polluted by those little nuances. _Kahl_.

His tongue tasted the backs of his teeth and his hips stirred once more at the thought of Cartman's body underneath him, Kyle's confident hands on his bare chest. That soft, wide chest. Nervous, grand breaths. And Kyle snickered, leaned in closer and licked Cartman's neck.

_You like that, fatass?_

_Yeah, I love it, Kahl._

Cartman's face, that smug, intimidating, evil face. Those poisonous, wretched eyes and that cunning smile. Kyle felt like it was his duty to warn newcomers to stay away from Eric Cartman. _Huh, who are you to talk when you're just as naive and stupid as them? No, I'm not! This is different... Totally... Different._ Kyle's train of thought was already speeding with no intention of letting him know what the fuck was going on because now his pale thighs were either side of Cartman's head as he fucked his mouth. Cartman's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his eyelids fluttered, aroused and his tongue twirled around Kyle's stiff member, Kyle's hand reached out and stroked the side of Cartman's pretty little face, feeling sympathy for the boy as he panted, moaned, choked and whimpered around Kyle's manhood.

These thoughts seemed to give Kyle some weird, twisted power. Let him keep his grip a little longer before he descended into insanity. If he could be dominant and powerful over Cartman then he could do anything. Or so he convinced himself. _You're too late. You're crazy. And your smile is just as depraved as the boy who's face you're currently grinding on._

Kyle knew he was currently thrusting his hips into mid-air, trying to keep up with Cartman's smouldering rhythm. But he just couldn't stop.

_It's okay, Cartman. You're doing fine... That's it... That's good..._ When did it get so hot in this room? It's January for fuck sake!

Okay, this one's for the game. Take us home.

Kyle had effortlessly turned Cartman over, so he was on his knees and all Kyle could see was his back. His broad shoulders and God he's tall, so tall.

"Beg for my cock, douchebag" Kyle whispers, his face burning when he realises he's just said that out loud. His teeth sink into his knuckles, hissing at the pain.

_Please._

_Please, please fuck me. Damn, I love your cock, Jewboy. Give it to me now. Pretty please?_

_I want you so bad. Please? Kahl?_

And just so he could feel some sort of palpable ecstasy, Kyle squeezed his hardened, pleading bulge and to his surprise, him and Cartman moaned, relieved and euphoric, at the same time.

Kyle's face twisted in concentration, his headboard continued to rock, muffled as he fumbled with his erection. He just needed to do something. The image of Cartman never too far away, their pleasure synchronised, the first syllable of Cartman's name, bouncing on his tongue.

And once his whole body started to ache, Kyle realised he should stop. He had no dignity left to preserve. And he didn't know what point he was trying to prove. End when you're on a high, right?

"Get a fucking hold of yourself!" He shouted, his teeth ground together so hard that he feared that they would all crumble in his mouth.

_I guess this isn't over_ Kyle thought despairingly. Oh great, another panic attack, that's just what he needed.

Kyle grumbled in annoyance before burying his head in a pillow._ Yay, this is a new level of self loathing. The one that makes me want to slit my throat with a kitchen knife_. All he could do was let this ravishing, sordid, Cartman-induced heat simmer.

* * *

Thank God for free periods. Kyle usually hated them, after all, it meant being left on his own with no one to talk to, standing in their usual spot behind the school, fighting the chill. It made him feel like even more of a social outcast than he already was and the amount of chain-smoking he did in a vain attempt to brighten up this lonely hour made him feel like some kind of angsty, obnoxious teenager. And he didn't want to be one of those, though he had no way of telling if he was...

Now, he was relieved, just like at Craig's party, he was starting to feel a tad claustrophobic. There was so much fucked up shit going through his mind on a daily basis, constantly recycled. He was thinking about Cartman way too much. And he was the last person he wanted to be thinking about... _Is that true? Of course it is! Jesus, I don't know anymore, okay! Are you happy now?!_

Even when he was on his own he felt like he had been thrown into a crowd of judgemental, rowdy people who would tear him to shreds if he made one single mistake. He could be alone. In his room. Late at night, trying to get some sleep, but he felt like someone was there, touching him, talking to him, slowly persuading him... Making him crazier than he already was.

Kyle sighed, rolled his eyes and slumped against the vandalised wall. He stared, fascinated at the molding scenery, willing for it to change. But it didn't. The shiny, oil black garbage bags didn't move, the slick, filthy floor didn't magically dry up and the paper thin clouds and winter sun didn't break and release torrential rain. _I'm pathetic. No you're not, you're just confused and rightly so._ Even the rats pitied him. That was comforting.

Then, like a mild gasp of cold air "Hi."

Kyle refused to look at Cartman. He wasn't even surprised to see him, as far as Kyle was concerned he'd been there all along. Standing next to Kyle, so close but out of reach, refusing to leave him alone.

"What do you want?" Kyle mumbles, it hurts to look at him. It's too much effort.

"Have you thought anymore about my offer?" Cartman smiles.

_Have I been thinking about it? You bet your ass I have, seriously, Cartman you have no idea how much-_ "Yep. A little bit" Kyle whispers, lost and exhausted.

"So? What's it gonna be?" Cartman asks, trying to not let the hope show. _Yes._

Kyle purses his lips together, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and he shakes his head. He doesn't want to answer Cartman's question just yet. But he just wants to Cartman show how much he has driven him crazy since that stupid party.

"You know what? Before I give you my final answer, I just need to ask you something..." Kyle snaps and God, does being pissed off at Cartman make him feel more alive. It's just so reassuring, that he has this anchor of hate that he could never let himself lose. It reminds Kyle that he's stronger than he thinks. _It's like I'm fucking his mouth all over again..._

"Oh, and what's that?" Cartman replies, equally as bitter and smug, a welcomed, familar heat taking the sting off this cold January day.

"What makes you think that you can manipulate me so easily? Haven't you learned anything from these past twelve years? For as long as we've known each other you've never been able to have the upperhand, you've tried but you've failed. So what makes you think that you can just suddenly snap your fingers and I'll want to have sex with you? It's because you're arrogant, right? Because you can't handle it when people tell you 'no'? Which is understandable. But I thought you were smart enough to know that it wouldn't work on me. It never has. I don't know... I just thought you were better than that, fatass. I think I may have given you a little too much credit. It's kind of disappointing, actually."

Looking into Cartman's eyes has never been a problem for Kyle. It's easy and simple and doesn't make him piss himself in fear, like most people. But now, it was different. Kyle couldn't break away from that golden, venomous stare. It wasn't just easy, it was fucking exhillirating.

Meanwhile, Cartman has never been more turned on. _Damn that amazing, sexy Jew_. He never heard Kyle sound so cold and self-assured before, no one ever, ever spoke to Cartman like that. They were all pussies, that's why. But Kyle didn't give a rats ass, Kyle was the only person who was good enough, the only person who had that kind of authority over him, to speak to him like that. And it may have pissed Cartman off, but it felt good. Really good. It was all kind of masochistic, actually. _Well, if that's the case, I'd happily put a gag in my mouth and give Kyle a whip. Fuck, he would look so hot in black leather_. Cartman realised he could never lure Kyle into submission, no, Kyle was more intelligent than that, he couldn't be tricked. But Cartman would happily let Kyle take control of him.

"But, it's not just that" Kyle continues, a little more angry and impatient. "Maybe I don't want to have sex with you because I want to have sex with girls, did you even consider that? How do you even know I'm gay?"

_Come on Kahl, it's pretty obvious_. "Well, I don't know..." Cartman shrugs, in a way that he knows will piss Kyle off even more. "I just took a shot."

"You're a fucking idiot" Kyle grumbles, shaking his head.

"So am I right?" Cartman asks.

"What?"

"Are you gay?"

"Well, I don't know yet. I haven't really figured it out" Kyle replies, as quickly as possible.

"Maybe if you and I fucked" Cartman begins while Kyle winces at the word. He had been thinking about that whole scenario way too much. "You'd know how you feel. And you wouldn't be so confused."

"I'm not confused" Kyle lies.

Cartman shrugs, sighing heavily before muttering "Kind of seems like you are..."

_JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, HE BETTER GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I SMASH HIS STUPID FACE AGAINST THE WALL_ "You're so fucking arrogant, Cartman! You think you have everybody figured out and that they all need fixing, including me! But I'm not a little kid, okay? I can take care of myself and I don't need your slutty little offer to help me, alright?!"

Cartman rolls his eyes and snaps back, exasperated "What's the big deal?! It's just sex!" _That's a lie and you know it, it's so much more than that. But he doesn't need to know..._

Kyle puts his head in his hands, frustrated and annoyed and in this darkness he's created for himself, he finally feels alone. But he doesn't like it. _What the fuck do you want from me?!_ Kyle realises all he can tell is the truth, just let out all these insecurities and Cartman can do whatever the fuck he likes with them.

"Honestly?" Kyle begins "I wouldn't be able to go through with it..."

"Why?" Cartman asks quietly, as if he didn't know the answer.

"Because it's you! I've known you for years! I, I just can't get it out of my head that to me you'll always be Cartman, the guy who I hate and fought with everyday and who made my life a fucking misery!" _There you go. That's it. Now what are you gonna do?_

"Gee Kahl, thanks! You really know how to make a guy feel better!" Cartman snaps, rolling his eyes, though Kyle's words didn't hurt him. Because he knew he deserved it, he couldn't deny Kyle's perception of him, after all, he didn't do anything to stop Kyle from hating him.

"No! It's just that..." Kyle whines, wanting to say the right thing "I'm not attracted to you!"_ Are you sure?_

Cartman didn't respond _Well, you heard him. So what can you do now? Because you're not giving up, are you?_ instead, he answered his own question by grabbing Kyle by his hair and pulling his limp, surprised body to his. Cartman squeezed his eyes shut, trying to swallow this dizzying, sickening fear as his and Kyle's lips furiously smashed together. _No_.

What else could he do, besides kiss him? Show him exactly how he felt, everything they could be? Cartman's mouth started to ache but it was all worth it to know that it was because he was kissing Kyle's lips, running his hands through his hair, breathing hard and sharp against Kyle's heaving chest. Kyle was light in Cartman's arms, not struggiling or kissing him back, just slowly fading. He heard Kyle's heartbeat, timid and fast, but he didn't want to open his eyes, he wanted to convince himself that Kyle was enjoying this, all the other signs were there, right? (Or so he thought). He could feel Kyle's face becoming hot, he heard those distant, muffled sounds but no definite emotion was clear. All Cartman knew was that he loved the way those noises felt when they trickeled across his kiss-swollen lips. And that was good enough, perfectly good enough for him.

There were no fireworks or harps or any of those romantic cliches that Kyle had heard people mention when they spoke about their best kiss. To Kyle, it seemed like the world had been emptied and they were the only two people, the spotlight entirely on them. Silence. Beautiful, eerie silence that Kyle wanted to hold and cherish and then whisper to Cartman _"Listen to that silence, it's ours Cartman and nothing, nobody can take it away."_ Right now, he couldn't speak, because Cartman still had possession of his mouth and Kyle didn't want it any other way. He couldn't remember the last time he had been kissed, but Kyle knew that he had never, ever been kissed like this before. This wasn't just a chaste, playground peck or a drunken, horny make out session this was, this was... A gateway to something more. One big love letter, one heartfelt confession that words couldn't hold. It was too big, too grand, too important. And Kyle wanted to hear more, so finally, after his feet finally touched the ground, he cupped Cartman's face, angled his head and allowed Cartman inside, a terrific, heartfelt moan stroking Cartman's lips. _Write more, Cartman. Write everything. Because I wanna read it_. So the letter continued, love notes flowed from a passionate mouth and seared Kyle's lips. And Kyle wrote his own. And once the floodgates opened, Kyle couldn't stop. His pulse quickened, rapid thoughts speared his heart.

_Oh my God_

_ His hands_

_His fingers _

_Just touch me. _

_Touch me anywhere _

_He tastes so good _

_He feels so warm _

_How is he this strong? _

_I can't breathe but I don't know if I want to _

_Break me, break me, snap me in half _

_His lips _

_Cartman _

_His tongue _

_Cartman _

_Please _

_He's smiling against my- _

_Stop, no don't. _

_Cartman. _

_I want to bite him _

_Bite me _

_I wonder if he- _

_So hard. _

_And soft. _

_What the hell am I doing? _

_Cartman _

_Cartman _

_Cartman _

_No, wait _

_Cartman _

_This is heaven_

Then the noise. The cacophony of everyday, all came rushing back. Because the kiss had ended, but the fever hadn't. Cartman and Kyle were smart enough to know that they would never be cured, why would they want to be? Kyle knew his answer to Cartman's question and he wondered if he knew the answer all along. Even before that wonderful kiss.

They were both staring. Their eyes studying every inch of their faces. Their damp, plush lips, their hot, flustered faces and their strung out, blown away smiles.

Cartman's chest ached when he looked at Kyle. That familiar, unrequited feeling was still there except now it didn't feel so one sided._ I just kissed him. Fuck. I can't believe I just kissed him_. It all made Cartman go rather serious, the smile being replaced by this stern, unshakeable love for Kyle. Still, the euphoria of it all flickered in the deepest part of his mind.

Kyle softened his grip on Cartman's hair. _This is what it must feel like, to have an epiphany_ Because the storm of confusion was over and now Kyle was floating. The sky was endless, a myriad of dreamy colours and the water was thin and clear, Cartman's reflection smeared across it. Because that's all Kyle could see. All his mind could process right now. His eyes, his smile, his button nose, the feel of his body, his hands, the taste of his mouth, the sound of his voice and it all made sense. Eric Cartman was the most beautiful person Kyle had ever seen. After all this time.

_Wow, he's_ "Well, how do you feel now?" _Gorgeous_. Cartman whispers huskily into Kyle's shocked mouth.

"Fuck, you're good. I hate that." Kyle laughs nervously, both of them smiling and trembiling in the self made shipwreck.

* * *

This whole situation (for lack of a better phrase) lay dormant for two days, until one morning, when Kyle was still in a half-asleep, zombified state and rifiling through his locker, he felt a hand grip his shoulder, making him jump.

Kyle clutched his books protectively, waiting for something.

Warm, hesitant breath on the nape of his neck. Kyle sighed and Cartman snickered. Both of them knowing _I can't take the waiting._

"Do you wanna come over to my place, tonight? I'm gonna be there on my own, so..." Cartman could barely contain himself when he spoke, each word slipped and stumbled along a thin tightrope.

Kyle shuddered knowingly, felt the familar onset of a panic attack mix with the sizziling excitement that chewed away at his stomach. It hurt, but in a good way.

"Sure" Kyle whispered hesitantly, before turning his head slightly. Cartman lingered in his weak vision and he lowered his eyes to the hand that was crushing his shoulder "Sounds great"

The words vanished quickly, evaporating in the tense air, shallow and asphyxiating.

_Realisation rolled in like a tropical storm._

_I'm finally going to have sex with him._

_I'm finally going to get laid._

_Tonight._

_Tonight._

* * *

Cartman had seen a lot of movies. When he was a kid he would block out the noises of his mom fucking some guy upstairs by providing himself with a constant stream of films. These big, bold characters were just enough to distract him from the disgust and the shame. Turns out, that watching all these movies had some pretty bad side effects, the biggest of which was a skewed and far too romanticised view of the world. Everyday life didn't have a fitting score for every mood, it didn't have the ability to filter out the dull, boring stuff and it didn't have the luxury of a script. You just woke up and prepared yourself for the random and the bland. With no idea what was coming.

It also made having sex a little less magical. In the movies you only see the tender, passionate stuff, you don't see the awkwardness, the fumbiling of putting a condom on, the desperateness of trying to make the girl you're currently screwing have a fantastic orgasm accompanied by an enthusiastic, silky cry. You didn't carry your lover into your house, both of you drenched from the heavy rain, you didn't draw their naked bodies and proceed to fuck in a stranger's car... You fuck in an unmade bed, or the bathroom of some dude's house you barely know, praying that party guests don't barge in (though it is the fucking bathroom and people will need to use it...)

And though he would love to believe the exact opposite was true with Kyle, Cartman knew it wasn't. He knew that Kyle wouldn't knock on his door, pull him in for a kiss and then let himself be carried to Cartman's room. He knew Kyle was going to be extremely nervous and it would take a while for him to just let all his worries go and just let Cartman... Have him.

"You seem quiet, Jew" Cartman smiles, they've been sitting at the end of his bed, not talking or making any contact with each other for half an hour.

"I don't know, I'm just..."

"Terrified?" Cartman guesses.

Kyle rolls his eyes and nods. "What do we do first? You know more about this stuff than I do, because you've actually had sex and I don't want to make myself look stupid or-"

Kyle was interrupted by Cartman's nurturing kiss. Kyle didn't know why he felt so safe or comfortable, praying that Cartman wouldn't stop... His hormones were going crazy, clashing and colliding and making him a mess. _Just go along with whatever he does, you'll be fine_ Cartman gently cupped Kyle's face, his fingers brushing against Kyle's neck while he wrapped his other arm around the small of the redhead's back, bringing him closer. Kyle closed his eyes hesitantly, trying to fall back into the easiness of their first kiss, but it was hard, he was too God damn frightened. But he could try, he had to. Kyle purred, letting Cartman press him close._ It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, it's going to-_

"That's what people usually do first" Cartman breaks away momentarily to explain, his eyes calm and confident, helping Kyle keep his grip on the situation, help his heartbeat stay steady.

"Cool" Kyle smiles before he presses his lips against Cartman's, this time more determined and sure of himself. The kisses remained tentative and safe, their tongues entangled and the breathless moans the two both elicited from one and other was enough to make their jeans start to tighten. Slowly, ever so slowly, Kyle felt himself slip back into the rythym, the simplicity of their first kiss. Cartman just seemed so familair to him now, he knew his taste, the feel of his lips, the way his tongue opened Kyle's mouth, curious and eager.

Cartman effortlessly coils his arms around Kyle's waist and brings Kyle onto his lap, breaking their heady kiss to take Kyle's t-shirt off. Kyle didn't feel nervous, he just watched calmly, his eyes half-lidded, as Cartman slowly revealed him and when he was shirtless, Kyle steadied himself, his hands resting on Cartman's shoulders. He smiled awkwardly as Cartman began to kiss and bite his neck, his fingers running up and down his back, over his spine. Kyle seethed and moaned at the feeling of Cartman's teeth nipping at his skin. Soon, Cartman's lips moved lower, squeezing Kyle's hips as the redhead leaned back, giving Cartman permission to trail his lips down his chest and onto his stomach (even though he was confused as to why he was being so affectionate). He never thought Cartman would be like that with anybody, but he didn't want to ruin the moment, not when he could feel himself hardening in his jeans, becoming more and more worked up the further south Cartman's kisses and bites travelled.

Cartman had closed his eyes, knowing that if he messed this up, at least he had these moments where he had kissed Kyle, bit his neck, felt his skin under his lips... He had to savour them, never forget. Still, it was hard to not let his mind wander and his body seize with excited heat as he realised Kyle was giving in to his advances, he loved how Kyle's fingers dug softly into his shoulders, keeping his grip. He loved the warm taste of Kyle's skin He loved how Kyle moans and sighs vibrated along Cartman's lips when his teeth tugged at the flesh on his throat. Pretty soon, Kyle closed his eyes too, just allowing himself to give in, that's all he had to do, right? All he had to do was let Cartman lead him. For once in his life.

_Wait, no, fuck that._

With a thoughtful yet smug smile, Kyle pushed Cartman down onto his bed and Cartman's shocked expression was enough to make Kyle's ego swell. Cartman opened his legs, allowing Kyle to slide into his embrace, the friction of their jeans left a burnt, rich taste in their mouth and their lips instantly molded into a kiss, hot and deep as their bodies writhed, their groins flared as they ground their hips together, teasing each other to the point of insanity. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as their kisses became uneven, broken with sighs and gasps. Cartman's hands were shaking as they touched Kyle everywhere, his hair, his back, his ass, while Kyle's hand gripped the pillow and his other hand fumbled in this close proximity the boys were in, his fingers struggled over the button of Cartman's jeans, pulling down his fly and delving his hand into a blind spot. Kyle just couldn't stop thinking about what was laying underneath the material, he was dying to just feel it.

"Kahl" Cartman moans. Kyle knew he would become addicted to that word, a part of him always had been. He would do anything to make him say it.

The only cock Kyle had touched was his own and he didn't think that touching Cartman's would be any different, but it was. And that kind of freaked him out. Kyle curiously, teasingly fumbled with Cartman's clothed erection, fondiling and stroking his bulge teasingly before he was blindsided by that fantasy. The one where Cartman was fucking him hard and it made him groan, unabashed, into Cartman's mouth.

_God damn it, Jewboy you really know how to get me all worked up, don't you? _Cartman thought, bucking his hips in time with Kyle's hand. Obviously he was shocked when Kyle reached down into his boxers, he was terrified that just one touch from Kyle and he could come right there. But this was perfect, slow and excruciatingly teasing. A part of him wished that Kyle would just jack him off but at the same he didn't want this to stop. God, Kyle was so frustrating and annoying and stirred so many conflicted emotions within him, but he didn't know what the fuck he would do if Kyle disappeared, he didn't want Kyle to stop making him feel this way. Hit after hit, it was always worth it.

Kyle pauses the swollen, rythymic kiss to bite Cartman's lip and whisper hotly "See, what did I tell you? I always have the upperhand, right?" This confidence was infectious.

"I don't think so Jewboy" Cartman growls before swiftly flipping Kyle over so he was lying on his back. Cartman had taken control once again, Kyle's arrogance being washed away but he didn't mind, he always had Cartman to bring it back.

Time seemed to be chaotic, scattered, the minutes tripping over one and other, dying to win the race, bloating on adrenaline and then collapsing at the last hurdle. This craziness, this rush, was enough to overwhelm the boys, leave them stranded and breathless but once Cartman had pinned Kyle down, their bodies coming together seamlessly, their eyes gently closing and their lungs drowning in one explosive kiss then... the hands on the clock remained still, time became irrelevant and all the pieces of the shattered ground came together. One kiss to restore the balance, to keep Cartman and Kyle from falling off the edge. To the both of them it seemed like the closest thing to perfection they'd ever experience.

Their kiss broke, but their lips still brushed together hopefully. Cartman murmurs, staring straight into Kyle's Emerald eyes "You're beautiful."

_Beautiful? Did he just call me beautiful? No one has ever said that to me before. I'm a fucking idiot, all these years I didn't realise just how extraordinary he was._

Kyle didn't respond, he was too busy studying Cartman and kicking himself for writing Cartman off as somebody not worth his time. How wrong he had been. Cartman didn't need an answer anyway, he was already squirming at his own senimentality, but he convinced himself that Kyle needed to hear it. He deserved to hear it.

Kyle arched his back and shivered when Cartman's hand gently trailed up the side of his body. Cartman had already started kissing Kyle's neck again, biting and nipping, sucking the skin that his teeth had claimed. Kyle licked his lips and jolted when the heat of Cartman's tongue pushed against his Adam's apple, making it retreat back into his throat, Kyle choked on a surprised squeak. He felt like his voice had been stolen, his body already possessed.

Not many things caught Cartman off guard, maybe it was his arrogance, his narcisstic ways but not many people managed to move him. Only a select few. But as he tried his damn hardest to keep Kyle as horny as possible, licking and sucking and kissing until he made Kyle scream, that was when he heard something much more stirring. A fast, begging heartbeat. Kyle's. _His heart can't be beating that fast, because of me?_ Cartman smiled, small and purely amazed. He dragged his tongue down Kyle's heaving chest, leaving a slick, glistening trail behind. Kyle stared down in wonderment, honestly not knowing what was going to happen next and he wished he could just calm down. But how could he? When Cartman was being so God damn sexy?

Kyle swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat when he heard the daunting noise of a button being popped, a zipper being pulled down. _It's okay, it's okay, you trust him, right?_ Cartman stood up on his knees, not looking at Kyle as he carefully lifted Kyle's legs up, pulling his jeans off, both of them watched as the material fell away from Kyle's legs. Kyle couldn't help but laugh softly, biting his lip. Cartman met his eyes and offered him a smile, honest and sincere. _Yes_. Kyle found it hard to not be terrified by the fact that he was lying on Cartman's bed, in nothing but his boxers, his arousal visible and unavoidable (he had been rock hard since him and Cartman were practically grinding on each other) while Cartman was still fully clothed (yes, Kyle had touched his cock through his boxers and yes, his fly was still undone but he was still covered up).

Kyle flinched when Cartman tugged at his boxers, peeling them away from his legs. Just the sight of the defined V that led down to Kyle's crotch made Cartman's stomach feel dangerously light, he had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself from whimpering. Kyle raised his hips, reassuring Cartman that it was okay and with a little more confidence, Cartman slipped Kyle's boxers down his legs, watching them slide down his calves before pulling them from Kyle's ankles and throwing them on the floor.

_I'm naked. In front of Cartman. Holy fuck, what the hell do I do?_ Kyle screamed in his head. He had never been so exposed before, a part of him was revelling in it, some sordid, shameful, whorrish place deep within him, while another part was trying to find some sense. But then there was this other feeling that had suddenly kickstarted like a resuscitated heartbeat from the core of his chest, making him feel calm. Telling him that this was okay. And Kyle knew this is what he wanted. He wanted Cartman to see him and touch him and do a million other things. He was so close to losing his grip, but he knew Cartman would catch him.

Cartman's breathing hitched, closer and closer to just losing it all together._ How is it possible to look this good naked?_ _Fuck, he's amazing_ Cartman drank the image of Kyle in greedily, hungrily, speechless and his mind emptied. His eyes were trained on Kyle's thighs, his mouth becoming heavy with saliva when he saw Kyle's manhood. His hard, impressive, circumcised manhood. _Damn, Kahl._

"Hmmm... I wasn't expecting that" Cartman whispers shakily.

"Expecting what?" Kyle asks timidly.

"For you to be so sexy" Cartman mindlessly replies before leaning down and taking Kyle's cock in his mouth, revelling in the shameless fantasies of his mouth being thorroughly fucked.

The speed of which this whole thing happened shook Kyle. Suddenly, Cartman was just going down on him, his erection enclosed in this vicious, damp heat. Kyle cried out Cartman's name, clawing his fingers into Cartman's hair. Cartman squeezed Kyle's thigh as he sucked hard and fast, allowing Kyle to slowly and cautiously fuck his mouth. Kyle's pride vanished, he was unashamedly coming undone and he wasn't afraid to let Cartman know it.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, desperately gasping for air as Cartman's amazing tongue traced the buckiling throbbing veins and his mouth continued to tighten around and suck Kyle's shaft.

"Fuck, Eric" Kyle cried out, his voice, body shaking. Kyle had never called Cartman by his first name before and Cartman never realised how much he loved Kyle saying it until now. Cartman groaned around Kyle's girth, digging his nails into Kyle's damp thigh.

The adrenaline was sickening, almost draining but yet it was so addictive. Kyle couldn't understand it, but he didn't really need to. But he was sure he was going to come soon and he couldn't let that happen just yet.

"Eric" Kyle groans pleadingly "Stop, stop!"

Cartman stops suddenly, granting Kyle mercy. Kyle looks down at the brunette who was in between his legs, he looked so cute and yet sexy. Cartman's face was flushed and damp, his expression confused, he was clearly exhausted and strung out and his hair was dishevelled from where Kyle's fingers had dragged through it.

"What the hell, Kahl? You were just about to-"

"I know, that's why I told you to stop, retard" Kyle snaps irritably before rolling his eyes, though he couldn't be too mad when he was this horny. "Look, I have a problem."

"Oh, and what's that?" Cartman smirks, holding the base of Kyle's erection before his tongue slowly slithered up Kyle's shaft.

Kyle stammers out a hushed moan and his hips stir before asking "Why am I the only one who's naked?"

Cartman can't help but grin wickedly "Well, by all means, Jewboy..."

Kyle grabs Cartman by his shirt, pulling him to his lips in a blunt kiss before pinning Cartman on his back. He watches with bright, excited eyes as Kyle climbs on top of him, Kyle's bare, moist thighs either side of his hips. Just seeing Kyle so powerful over him made him a little too excited _You can't come now, you haven't even had sex with him yet_ Cartman shivered, but he still kept that insolent smile, tainted with arousal.

Kyle stroked Cartman's hair, damp with cold sweat, both of them were panting and exhausted but still too hungry to cave in. Kyle smiles softly before brushing his lips against Cartman's, their breathing fragile and worn. It seemed to hurt to stare into each other's eyes, the colours had drained, dark and dangerous, making their hearts pump loudly, the only noise that managed to shatter their breathing. Cartman's hands found their way to Kyle's ass, squeezing it possessively. Kyle hissed while Cartman laughed quietly, a trembiling smile seeping into their kiss.

Kyle leans back, watching Cartman with curiosity, his eyes trailing up and down as if he was planning something. Cartman swallowed, he tried to speak but his anxious, timid words refused to abandon the safety of his mouth. He almost jumped in fright when Kyle's hands slowly ran under his t-shirt. Cartman furrowed his eyebrows at Kyle's cocky smirk _Why is he so annoying and yet so sexy? Uch, it drives me crazy_ He had never felt so intimidated before, he hated how goosebumps rose so pathetically on his skin when Kyle graced his body with his heavenly touch, he hated how nobody was talking, it was just bated breaths and excruciating anticipation, he hated how Kyle had this warped authority over him. Most of all, he hated how he didn't want it any other way. This wasn't who he was. He was supposed to be pissed off by this shit, not totally love it, not act like a sensitive, submissive little bitch. _Who the fuck are you turning me into, Jew? Because I don't know whether I should like it or not._

Kyle was sure it wasn't healthy to be so fascinated by somebody's body, but how could he help being stunned when Cartman had changed so much? With every inch of him he revealed, Kyle became more and more excited, a tad more hungry. He had never been possessive and he tried to be as generous as possible throughout his life, but as he stroked Cartman's chest and lifted up his pesky shirt he couldn't help but think crazily _This is mine this is mine this is mine if only once this is mine this is mine_ He didn't know whether he had picked this up from Cartman, but he didn't care. Kyle just couldn't believe how tall Cartman was, how adorable he found it that he still had some puppy fat clinging to him and that there wasn't a slender, bony part of his body, he was just thick and sturdy _No wonder he's so good at football, he's like a fucking wall of fat and muscle_ Kyle didn't think he was the kind of person to have a "type" but turns out this was it.

Cartman sat up as Kyle impatiently pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it carelessly on the floor. _Wow, he really likes me- don't get your hopes up kid, okay? He could just be horny, the heat of the moment and blah, blah, blah, don't let yourself believe that he's actually_ Kyle was a lot stronger than Cartman thought as Kyle pinned him down in a mere second. Kyle's enthusiastic hands scrambled for Cartman's chest, digging his nails in, grabbing him and leaving searing, pink marks in his flesh and speaking of marks... Kyle's teeth and tongue worked hard and fast on Cartman's neck, littering his skin with wet, sore bites. Pretty soon, Kyle's tongue trailed down, circiling a hardened bud.

"Jesus Christ" Cartman sighed through gritted teeth, his hands clawed into his mattress, his knuckles turning white as his face flushed pink. _Falling for you._

Unlike Cartman, the path that Kyle was paving was littered with affectionate, chaste kisses, he was smiling dreamily into Cartman's skin, capturing his breaths and memorising his heartbeat. Kyle wasn't cautious when he reached Cartman's jeans, he was impatient and over excited. Cartman's fly had already been undone by Kyle, his jeans were resting teasingly low on his hips and Kyle pulled them off roughly. It was kind of funny and Cartman couldn't help but laugh and roll his eyes.

The lump in Kyle's throat had hardened uncomfortably when he took Cartman's boxers off, his stomach was knotting and writhing to the thought of what was underneath.

"Wow" Kyle gasped when he saw that much-thought-about manhood. Yep, definitely seven inches. A thick seven inches at that.

All Cartman could think about was Kyle. Thoughts just kept regurgitating, hitting him hard. Kyle's rose lips against his, his gentle, sweet breath on his skin, his fingers teasing him, gripping him, his smile so knowing and lewd, his eyes so manipulative and persuasive. And Cartman knew. He knew what he wanted. Though he had done it with other guys before, Cartman knew with Kyle it would be different. Totally different. Because it was Kyle. And he was fucking crazy about him.

Kyle had pulled Cartman's boxers down the slope of his calves when he heard the taller boy plead, hot and sweet "Fuck me"

"W-what?" Kyle asks quietly.

Cartman grabs Kyle's arm and pulls him forward, reminding the both of them that Cartman was still pretty fucking strong. He could snap Kyle in half if he wanted to.

Their faces were frighteningly close, their features still clear but not making sense anymore. The heat, the cold sweat, practically radiating off of the both of them. The potent shock evident on Kyle's face, just like Cartman's fierce determination was present on his. Their eyes were predatory, stalking each other, never losing focus.

Cartman's voice is laboured and threadbare, his teeth gritted and Kyle has never seen him look so serious. It's all so unnerving. "I said, fuck me. There's a bottle of lube in my dresser drawer, so stick it on your fingers, rub it on your cock" Both of them feel a squirming, pleasurable jolt go through their stomachs at that word "And fuck me"

"Are you sure?" Kyle asks thinly, trying to find any traces of doubt in Cartman's eyes.

Cartman's face softens then, his body relaxing when he whimpers "Kahl"

He kisses Kyle's nose and Kyle covers it with his hand self-consciously. _I can't believe he actually likes this stupid, ugly thing. He really is something-_

Cartman grabs Kyle's hand, pulling it away from his nose and letting their fingers intertwine. They stare at each other so lovingly and honestly that they could both just cry when Cartman continues "Please? I really want this"

And he did. He truly did.

Kyle nods, leaning over to open Cartman's dresser drawer and searching around. After fumbiling through pens, packs of cigarettes and condoms, Kyle finds the small bottle of lube. Kyle tries to block out that nagging, frightening voice that tells him that he doesn't know what he's doing, only fuelling the excruciating pit of fear in his stomach. _But Cartman wants this, you want this and he obviously believes that you can do this. It's not going to be that difficult is it? Oh God, what the fuck am I doing?!_ Kyle coats two of his fingers in the thick, gooey, light pink liquid and that small action alone completely terrifies him. Hoping that Cartman would enjoy this._ YOU CAN'T HAVE A PANIC ATTACK IT WOULD BE THE MOST INCONVIENIENT THING THAT COULD HAPPEN IN THIS SITUATION! DON'T YOU THINK I FUCKING KNOW THAT?!_

Kyle swallows a combination of bile and fear as he slips one lubricated finger into Cartman's opening before slowly adding the second. Cartman shudders and moans breathlessly, the sensation was always uncomfortable at first, irritated by this blind, intrusive invader, but it still made him plead for more, wanting to lower his hips greedily. Kyle sighs in relief, before biting his lip and sinking his fingers in a little deeper, playing and exploring with this foreign heat, loving how he could manipulate Cartman with the slighest moves of his fingers. Every time Kyle stroked, drove deeper, opened and scissored his fingers the more Cartman seemed to enjoy it, his eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowing as he adjusted to the searing, crumbiling sensation of being invaded.

"Ready" Cartman barely gasped, his voice had evaporated under the overwhelming loss of control.

"You sure?" Kyle whispered, he had been watching Cartman with bated breath, fascinated and aroused.

Cartman nods assured, his teeth gnawing at his lip, he could taste blood in his mouth.

Cartman whines when Kyle pushes his fingers out, feeling empty and a little more loose. Kyle renews the drying coat of lube on his fingers, the two boys stare at each other wickedly, biting their lips and their eyes meeting fliratiously as Kyle slathers his erection with the lube from his wet hand, purring as the liquid licks his arousal.

Kyle settled himself into Cartman's hold, feeling so small and feeble. Cartman stared at him with shimmering eyes, his hands crawled up Kyle's back, opening his legs wider so Kyle could come closer. A tiny smile twitched in the corner of Kyle's mouth which Cartman mirrored, the two of them breathing at the same time, doing anything to keep themselves calm. Their noses rubbed together, they were running out of space, running out of air. Their eyes were both narrowed, the reflections of their irises illuminating and yet becoming blurred as breathing through their noses turned dizzying and breathing out through their mouths just didn't cut it.

No words. What could they say? Their minds had been emptied.

Both bodies rocked gingerly when Kyle moved his hips, easing himself inside Cartman. Kyle smiled, shuddering a quiet, breathless vowel into Cartman's mouth, his eyes closed in glorious defeat as his arousal sank into the small, tight heat. While Cartman's body seized, his fingers burrowing into the muscles of Kyle's back, making Kyle arch and whine. Cartman shut his eyes tightly, mewling and gasping as the searing hot friction intensified, becoming numb and wide as Kyle's girth started to push itself deeper. Kyle was reluctant to move too fast, too hard, restricting himself to soft pushes, he would pick up his pace soon enough, he knew it.

Cartman and Kyle found gentle satisfaction in these slow, tentative thrusts. Their lips skidded together roughly, usually resulting in smooth, luxurious kisses, their tongues entangiling and probing their mouths as their bodies moved, locked together. Their fevered eyes fluttered open occasionally, smiles were stringed with a tune of short gasps and shocked breathy groans.

A rythym started to appear, Kyle began to grind his hips hard and slow, increasingly thrusting deeper, the walls inside Cartman tightening around Kyle's firm, aching shaft, his hips working to meet Kyle's thrusts, fucking himself on Kyle's cock wantonly and even though Kyle was a virgin, Cartman could tell that Kyle knew how to fuck better than any of the other guys Cartman had been with. Maybe it was because he was finally having sex with someone he actually cared about, someone who he felt something a little deeper for, not just drunken lust, but Cartman let himself give in to Kyle, with no regret at all.

The slick wave of lust met with the ache of their drained bodies, making the two boys pant, moist and sizziling, both of them coated in sweat from this crisp humidity and the effort of nearing their climax. Their cries and sharp, strained breaths became louder, the bed springs grumbled and squealed and the headboard thumped, tuneless.

Kyle slid his quivering hand up Cartman's damp face and brings their lips together in an uneven, rocky kiss, light and stirring.

In the shrinking, smothering centimetres between them, an inexplicable, intangible need prevaded the air. The thick tension being sliced by the tight, trembiling moans of each other's names.

"So good... Eric..." Kyle groans weakly, his voice slowly disappearing as he focuses all his attention on intertwining deeper with Cartman.

"Fuck, Kahl, I..." Cartman whispers senselessly, never hurting so much. It was just so masochistic, this aching hunger for Kyle, the feeling of being filled and stretched but it was all bittersweet under Kyle's touch.

"It's okay..." Kyle reassures breathless and short, kissing the side of Cartman's face, crumbiling as the sordid pleasure overwhelms him, desolating his insides. Kyle plants feeble kisses on Cartman's cheek and jaw with his struggiling, clambering lips. "It's fine..."

Their mouths collide, a gentle, dreamy smile tearing the kiss apart, revelling in the velvety feel of each other's blossom lips.

Cartman smiles, a wavering, subdued laugh being shredded from his teeth, lovingly fingering the nooks of Kyle's spine.

Kyle breaches as he bucks his hips swiftly, lapping up the salt from Cartman's neck. Cartman cries out as Kyle desperately ravishes him more, the feeling is heady and overpowering, making him roll his eyes to the ceiling, accepting Kyle's ownership of him. His wonderful, beautiful Jew.

A hard pressure brushes against an oily, pulsing bundle of nerves. Cartman whines, tears stinging his eyes as the head of Kyle's erection continued to kiss his prostate. Cartman drags his fingers ferociously across Kyle's back, copper staining his nails. Kyle jolts and writhes in pain before his moist lips breathe lusty air into Cartman's ear, murmuring darkly "Look what I found..."

Kyle wasn't oblivious to his discovery. Kyle knew very well what the function of a prostate was, Hell, Kenny had told him about that years ago.

"Oh" Cartman shudders, his voice broken "There. Hnn, Kahl, don't stop" Begging desperately.

Kyle felt his own pre-cum wet and hot on his member, he bit and tore at Cartman's neck, his teeth tinged with red as he fucked Cartman harder, always sure to hit that electric, smooth rose inside of him. The two suddenly turned animalistic, that intrinsic rage and anger that bubbled beneath the surface imploded, settiling in the aftermath of their passion and turning them aggressive and wild, pawing and biting each other madly, searching for blood as they aimed to make each other hurt.

Sex is always better when there's rivalry involved.

"Eric, I, I'm gonna come" Kyle panted, his vocal chords eroding, acidic.

"Then kiss me" Cartman growled, demanded.

Quickly Kyle smashed his mouth against Cartman's. The two kissed and rocked their bodies together until oxygen was an after thought, choking on their own lusty cries, air being forcefully pushed through their noses. The kiss was marred with flustered, erratic cries before Kyle came heavily, his whole body struggled, wracked with the aftershock of his orgasm, but he didn't wilt. He continued to move his hips, shallow and easy, his member still quite hard.

Cartman still clung onto Kyle, a turbalent entity. Kyle was sure that Cartman's marks would be embedded on his flesh forever. The white that Kyle released, bubbled and leaked from the head of his dick, spilling out onto the sheets. Kyle licked his teeth and snickered.

Cartman knew he was close, with every thrust of Kyle's hips, with every steely, hard kiss Kyle left on his bruised, collared neck, he knew, he knew, he knew...

He pressed his desperate lips to Kyle's ear, licking the shell and biting his earlobe, anything to make Kyle shiver.

"Kahl" Cartman gasped, the first thrum of his orgasm reverberating throughout his body, he arched his back and buried his fingers in the grooves of Kyle's bones. "I'm close"

Kyle nodded, groaning guturally, balling his hands into concentrated fists as his tired hips thrusted harder.

Cartman knotted his fingers through Kyle's soaked scarlet curls, bruising their mouths with a forceful kiss. Their bodies jerked frantically, mouths and tongues struggiling to keep up with the difficult rythym. Wet, chaste kisses were exchanged, thin trails of saliva connecting their lips.

Cartman cried into Kyle's mouth as he came, hands possessively running all over Kyle's writhing body as his seed splattered up Kyle's chest, hard and messy. Cartman tasted the sparkiling vertigo on his tongue, white stars fizziling out in his blackened vision like firecrackers in his golden eyes. He desperately collected the air in his lungs as his body slowly relaxed, he couldn't control the content, delirious smile that was etched across his face.

"Fuck, Kahl..." Cartman whispered, his voice breathy and sweet, heaving out every word like a regurgitated pearl.

Kyle's eyes slowly met his, both of them staring invasively. _I've known him for years so why do I feel like he's a stranger? Because you didn't pay attention, didn't give him the benefit of the doubt. He's a person, don't you get it? He's not someone you just suddenly hate, he's special_. Kyle smiled tearfully when Cartman tucked one of his scarlet curls behind his ear, his fingers treading over Kyle's damp, flushed face. So Kyle returned the favour, touching Cartman's own heated face and kissing his forehead. _How can something so strange feel so natural?_

_Well, it was worth the wait. If the nine year old you knew that you had sex with him then he'd probably kick you in the nuts and hug you at the same time. God, I was a fucked up little kid._

_If the nine year old you knew you had done this then he'd hate your fucking guts. But I'm sure he'd understand, if you explained to him how this evil, sociopathic boy would eventually make him feel. He was a good kid, I'm sure he'd_ _understand._

It had started to rain half an hour ago, spitting and flicking at the window. Kyle didn't want to walk home just yet, it was too warm, too safe in Cartman's arms. Neither of them spoke. They just prayed for silence. Cartman wrapped his arms around Kyle's trembiling body and watched as Kyle rested his head on his chest.

Both of them stared out of the window, gloomy and grey, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the answers to fall magically at the end of the bed.

Instead, they fell asleep.

* * *

Cartman was the first to wake up, disorientated and confused by this weird weight on his chest. The rain had stopped, the remaining droplets of the storm sliding lazily down his window. The only light in his room was the glow of the streetlight outside, the shining strips slithered over his bed, highlighting Kyle's features as he slept.

Ah, Kyle._ Good, so I wasn't dreaming. Or losing my mind_. He looked so peaceful, even when there was dried cum on his chest.

Cartman tried to get back to sleep, but couldn't. It was 10:30, was his mom home? Did he care? He was still hungry though, maybe him and Kyle could order a pizza. If Kyle wanted to stay over, that is.

Kyle started to stir, his fingers curling, clutching something invisible and he mumbled "Cartman?"

"Yeah?" Cartman replied softly, stroking Kyle's curls.

"Hey" Kyle sighed sleepily, opening his eyes and propping himself up on his elbows.

"Hey" Cartman muttered back, exchanging lathargic smiles.

Kyle rolled away from Cartman, fumbiling to turn on the lamp that sat on Cartman's dresser. The both of them squinting as the harsh light flooded the room.

"What time is it?" Kyle grumbled, rubbing his eyes before raking his fingers through his messy curls.

"10:30?" Cartman shrugged.

"I should get home" Kyle whispered to himself, before staring down at the crusty patch of white on his chest. _Wow, that's disgusting_ He rolled his eyes and smiled through his embarassment while Cartman laughed under his breath at Kyle's discomfort. "After I have a shower."

_Congratulations! You've finally had sex! And not just sex. Surprisingly great sex with someone you could be-_

"Cigarettes." Kyle muttered, snapping himself out of his self congratulatory thoughts. His hormones, emotions were frazzled right now, sleeping on a landmine of thoughts and feelings that could easily lead to a panic attack or something worse. "I need cigarettes"

Kyle slipped out of Cartman's bed, not even caring if he was naked or if Cartman was staring at him. As far as him and Cartman were concerned, nothing was sacred anymore. If this was their way of calling a truce, then it was a pretty great way to do it.

Kyle picked up his jeans, rummaging through the pockets for his lighter and the half-empty pack of Marlboro's. Cartman's tongue grazed his incisor, his eyes lowering and his arousal peaking at seeing Kyle naked. _Hot fucking damn I'd eat a dozen strips of bacon right off his sweet, kosher ass_ Kyle smirked at the thought of Cartman drinking him in, almost biting his Marlboro as his groin began to flare.

"Is this too much of a cliche?" Kyle asks, cigarette dangiling limply from his mouth as he walks back over to Cartman's bed.

"Yeah" Cartman laughs, nodding his head and ruffiling Kyle's hair.

Kyle laughs and playfully bats his hand away before deciding "Well, screw it. I need one right now."

There was something strangely victorious about an after sex cigarette and Kyle was soaking in the glory. Trying not to let his good mood be dampened by any pesky panic attacks. They always managed to ruin things.

"Cartman, how did you feel after, you know, you first had sex with someone?"

_Embarassed, guilty, satisfied for a little while, kind of scared. Wishing that it was you. If I could do it all over again..._

"I didn't really feel anything. I guess I felt kinda weird, I just didn't realise what was happening and as soon as I did realise what was happening it was over."

"Oh" Kyle whispers, nodding and taking another drag.

"How do you feel?" Cartman teases, shuffiling closer to Kyle.

"Great" Kyle answers, smiling fondly and when he thinks about his first time, it just seems like a whirlwind. Cartman's lips, being that close. "Really great"

_But what now? What happens tomorrow? And the next day? What are you and him? Are you enemies, friends or something more? I don't know. What do you want? I don't know. What does he want? I can't ask him. Can't I just stay here forever? No. I'll lock myself up here with him- No you won't. Who says I can't? Get a hold of yourself. Life doesn't work like that. Make a decison NOW._

Kyle's smile had faded, sucked into the twister of his own consuming anxiety. _Don't do this in front of him, get home, have a shower and let all this crazy out when you're on your own. He doesn't want to see this. He'd never understand._

_Fuck, is he having a panic attack? Shit, he's hyperventilating? What if he faints or has a seizure? Do something! Don't just sit here like a fucking jackass! Do something, dipshit!_

"Kahl, are you okay?" Cartman asks, uneasy, touching Kyle's trembiling shoulder.

"I, I guess, it's just, I" Kyle felt like he was going to vomit, ashamed and terrified that this is happening right now._ What can I say?_

"What's up?"

"Nothing! It's just..." Kyle sighs, becoming impatient with himself, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to calm down and collect his thoughts. "I'm just a little freaked out. I mean, what we did was incredible, it was great... But it's us, you know? I don't want to make you feel awkward or for things to get complicated and uncomfortable between us... I just, I don't know... I'm sorry... I guess I should've thought about that before sleeping with you, huh?"

"Hey, Jewboy" Cartman says sternly, making Kyle look at him, confused and irritated. "That's okay. It's normal to feel a little freaked out, but you'll be fine. And don't worry about us... Things only get complicated if we make them complicated, right?" _Fuck, neither you or him can control whether this becomes complicated or not. Both of you are completely powerless here, I'd hate to break it to you._

"Yeah" Kyle nods. _How can you be so sure of that, Cartman?_

Cartman and Kyle knew that they had backed themselves into a corner. Of course things were going to change. Of course they couldn't go back now. They're in the deep end with no one but each other and who knows if they'll help keep each other float? In the corner they started to think, obsess and let the fear claim them inch by inch. Things were going to change. That they were both sure of. But would it change for the better? They didn't know that just yet. But in this terror fuelled delirium they forced themselves to believe that things could only get worse.

Cartman rested his head on Kyle's shoulder. Tired and defated. Kyle smiled in wonder at this strange boy, so captivating and yet difficult to get a proper hold of. _What have you done to me, fatass?_

Cartman stared up at Kyle with fascinated eyes. Finding simple joy in watching Kyle take a drag of his cigarette, contemplating the same things that were swirling around Cartman's mind. His eyes never left Kyle's face as his hand slowly made it's way to Kyle's heartbeat, circiling his nipple and murmuring wickedly into Kyle's neck "But you loved it, right?"

Kyle closes his eyes and nods, blushing and grinning wickedly. His cigarette nearly falling out of his mouth before he clamped down on it.

"What did I tell you, Jewboy? I'm good, right? Very, very good, aren't I?" Cartman whispers, his voice silky and permeating deliciously through Kyle's body.

Kyle moans thoughtlessly before replying "I guess... But I did all the work, dickhead."

"But you wouldn't have gotten so horny and come so hard without me and my sweet ass." Cartman points out.

"Whatever..." Kyle yawns.

Cartman licked his teeth before moving his hand down Kyle's chest, loving how Kyle jolted when Cartman's fingers skimmed his milky thighs.

"You're still hard" Cartman growls, as if Kyle didn't already know that.

He kissed and sucked Kyle's neck, his hand coiling around Kyle's erection and pumping softly.

"Cartman, stop." Kyle whines, lying through his satisfied smile. Smoke billowing out of his mouth with every gasp and sigh.

Both of them knowing that they would be absolutely fine if they could stay locked in this room with each other forever.

* * *

Kyle ended up staying over Cartman's house on that infamous night. He had a shower in Cartman's bathroom and Cartman even loaned him a t-shirt to wear. It smelled like Cartman, like cinamon and choclate and musty Pall Malls. Kyle never thought he was small, maybe a tad on the lanky side but taller than most guys he knew, he was taller than Stan and Kenny. So Kyle did feel a tad envious and irritated that Cartman's shirt was so loose and baggy on him. Then again, Cartman was a lot broader than he was, a lot thicker... Kyle closed his eyes and thought back to the nights previous events, how Cartman had easily taken ahold of him, how his teeth and fingers had left dark bruises on Kyle's skin, but the most spine tingiling and delightful of these thoughts was the fact that Kyle was the one who fucked _him_. He was the one who made Cartman tremble and cry, Kyle knew that his name had never sounded sweeter than when Cartman was moaning and whimpering it so pleadingly.

When Kyle opened his eyes again, that familiar burning lead in his boxers, his eyes met Cartman's foggy bathroom mirror. The steam trickled exasperatedly down the glass and Kyle could barely make out his reflection, he looked like a red lump in Cartman's tent like t-shirt. But Kyle liked what he saw. A content person proudly wearing the shirt of someone they might _Don't let yourself believe it just yet_ he felt like he was apart of something, a pattern, a collection of vivid threads in the tapestry of someone's life. He might be a fond memory in years to come or he could be something a little more permanant.

He wondered if Cartman would talk about him when high school ended and college drove a wedge between the fabulous four. He wondered if Cartman would recall him at a bar_ Hey, you look like a guy I used to know back home. We were friends for years and when we were seventeen, well, let's just say we became a little more than that_ or to his kids _Ha, please, Cartman? Have kids?! But hey, how well do you really know him?_ as old pictures were laid out on the living room floor and his kids would point to the 8 year old boy their dad used to be and his friends who are just child ghosts and demand who they were. And Cartman would say i_Well, see the one with the orange parka? He lived on the bad side of town, kids. No good white trash rednecks, that's all his family were. Still, Kenny was my best friend and we used to get in a lot of trouble, the principal never liked us. But he had a super power and no one believed him except me_. Kyle imagined his kids eyes gleaming excitedly and saying _What super power did he have daddy? Could he fly? Read minds?_ /i and Cartman would say _No, he didn't have a boring power like that! He couldn't die, kids. He was immortal!_ and his kids would deny it, laugh childishly and say _That's crazy, daddy!_ nd Cartman would just shrug his shoulders, maybe fatherhood would mellow him out? And he'd reply_ Of course it's crazy, but so is South Park. You know, we've been there to visit grandma hundreds of times, don't you think there's something a little strange about that town?_ and then he'd say _And see that kid with the red poofball hat? His name was Stan. He was kind of a hippie, a big animal lover. I don't know why. Anyway, he was a good football player though and if he didn't spend so much time vomitting on his activisit, hippie girlfriend or wasn't so hellbent on saving every endangered species he could've gone far... Maybe even play for the Broncos..._ And hopefully, when his kids pointed to the boy with the green ushanka and ask his name, Cartman would smile fondly with a glint in his eye and say _Now kids, that's someone really special. His name was Kahl. He was an annoying, filthy little Jew and we argued all the time, we hated each other but when I was a teenager, something happened between us that you're too young to understand right now. But it was perfect, that's all I can say. And even through all the bad times we had, that one special night will never let me forget him. Honestly, I still think about him sometimes and I wonder if he still thinks about me too..._

Kyle stopped then, before his mind could convince him of something that would be too painful to believe was true. All he hoped was that Cartman would never forget about tonight and that he understood just how grateful Kyle was.

Kyle walked silently across the hallway to Cartman's room, slightly disappointed that Cartman was fast asleep and snoring softly. He didn't know what he wanted to do if Cartman was awake, talk, argue, maybe fool around for a little while? He wasn't quite sure.

Regardless, he made himself comfortable on Cartman's bed, watching Cartman's chest rise and fall, watching his fingers twitch as he dreamt.

Kyle turned off the light, wondering if he could sleep when he had so many unanswered questions and paranoid thoughts keeping him awake.

"Jew" Cartman mumbled softly.

"Yes?" Kyle answered.

"Are you cold?"

_No_ "I guess, a little bit." Kyle felt his face burning at his blatant lie. Knowing full well why he said it in the first place.

"Then get your scrawny ass over here" Cartman ordered sleepily.

Kyle did as he was told, moving closer to Cartman until he could feel the warmth of his body heat. Kyle shivered, his hands reaching out to touch him, before Cartman swung his arm around Kyle's waist and pressed him close.

"That better?" Cartman mumbled, half asleep.

"Yeah" Kyle nodded timidly "Much better"

* * *

After a while, Kyle let Cartman spoon him, clutching the wrist of Cartman's arm that was wrapped around his waist.

Goosebumps flared up on Kyle's skin at the feel of Cartman's breath on his neck.

_"Say it again, Eric" Kyle moaned, his voice saccharine, his lips tasting of candy._

_"I love you, Jewboy" Cartman happily murmured into Kyle's glorious abundance of scarlet curls. Kyle didn't say it back. But Cartman was willing to wait._

_What's eight more years, right?_

* * *

Kyle woke up as soon as the sandman tore the stars from the sky. And with the sun came the infection of memory. Though Kyle would never regret what happened, he was smart enough to know how awkward it would be when Cartman woke up. Especially since the two of them had morning wood right now.

Kyle untangled himself from Cartman's embrace _Don't be a tool, you can stay can't you? You're tired and you're confused and you want to talk to him, don't you? You can't leave him here on his own. Yes you can, this is what's best, isn't it? How the hell do you know? Where's my jeans?_

Kyle loved the view from Cartman's window. The mountains look so beautiful in the morning, the sky was a smudged palette of pastel and the freshly fallen snow was still intact. Kyle got dressed by the wonderful view, his bleary eyes squinting slightly as the orange, swollen sun rolled over the jagged, white peaks. _Another lovely morning in paradise_ Kyle snickered, then stared over at Cartman. He clutched his chest, his heart's demands being ignored once again. It wept. _Why should I listen to you? To anyone? Who has the answers? Fucking nobody._

He watched Cartman from the open door for a while. Debating whether he should kick off his battered Vans, strip off his shirt and his jeans, he could put on that baggy, sweet smelling shirt of Cartman's (one of the many things that kept him warm that night, which was now neglected on the floor) and crawl back under the covers. He could lie and say he went to the bathroom if Cartman asks him why he got out of bed. But mostly he was just staring at Cartman and thinking about nothing at all, just being greedy and jonesing for a rush.

"I'll call you later, I promise" Kyle whispered, his eyes stung and his voice hurt.

He didn't call. He couldn't tell you why and if he did, the guilt would've shut him up.

* * *

It seemed more than likely to Cartman that Kyle was the catalyst for every great and not so great moment in his life. To him, it seemed logical that someone he thought about, nay obsessed over had to play a huge role in his life, his fate, his decisions. As far as Cartman was concerned, from the moment they met as gap-toothed, dimpled playschoolers, his life revolved around two people. Himself and Kyle.

There was no doubt his lack of sleep this weekend was all Kyle's fault. The reason he was constantly checking his alarm clock and feeling drowsy and nauseous was because he couldn't stop thinking about Kyle. Both of them too stubborn to even acknowledge the fact that they wanted to talk to each other about anything. It didn't have to be about what happened on that incredible Friday night, they just wanted to be around each other.

But every time Cartman's thumb hovered over Kyle's name on his phone, he couldn't bring himself to call. To hear that voice. Was it out of fear or pride? _A little bit of both._

It was Kyle's fault that Cartman woke up so early on a suicidal Monday morning. It was Kyle's fault that Cartman had to walk to the bus stop on his own, freezing his balls off. Sure, he could've called Kenny, refusing to hang up until that piece of shit got his lazy ass out of bed, but he honestly just didn't care anymore. About anyone. They could all fucking suck it. _Are you sure you're pissed off at everyone, sport? Yes, of course I am! It's his fault! I don't even know how I could look him in the eye after he fucking humiliated me! Left me in my own bed like I was some one-night stand cock sucking slut who's Syphillis he had to wash off quick. Which I'm not. Maybe I am. See what he's done to my head?! Is he ashamed of me? Does he regret it? He said it was great, but should I believe him? Stupid bi-polar drama queen Jew bitch, he's like a fucking chick with his moodswings. And his stupid panic attacks and his sexy laugh and the way he talks back to me like he doesn't care and I'd just love to shut his rants up by kissing him... There, all better, Kahl? Stay focused. You're pissed. You're angry at him! Not like he'll ever know. Maybe it's better for me to just ignore him, he'd hate to admit it but he loves the attention of me fighting with him, he thrives on it, he loves how we talk to each other. We're not so different. When he shows up I'll just have to kiss him. His lips, christ, his lips, my hickeys have faded and they look ugly. But I can't kiss him or touch him, push him down on his knees and fuck him in the snow, though he deserves it. Stan would have a heart attack and Kenny would have a field day. Horny bastard. God, I'd make that Jew bleed. Scream. Cry and come all over his stupid, faggy Levi's. I'd put my hand in his mouth while I'm fucking him and make him suck my fingers until I can feel the bones break under his teeth. Then he'd turn over and we'd kiss each other better. If only, if only, if only..._

"Hi" An unusually quiet, sweet voice that makes Cartman wince with annoyance and arousal.

Cartman lowers his eyes, his face is tinged with a flaring, infectious blush that refuses to move. He struggles to even look at Kyle with his conflicted eyes.

But when he does, that anger starts to thaw. Something that was as sure, cold and sturdy as the 3 foot of snow on the ground now just seemed so fickle, improbable, sliding out of his control. Kyle is shivering, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his marl green jacket, his nose is swelling red due to this biting, cruel morning and his eyes are apologetic, so deliciously guilty. He couldn't be farther away from the real him, the person Cartman was crazy about, but Cartman was still sold, hooked nonetheless. It wasn't just the one side of Kyle, it was every person Kyle could possibly be, every defence mechanism, every faulty emotion, every flaw, every mistake and Cartman treasured every one. _If this is true love then... It's not as scary as I thought it would be. But this is just the easy part, right? If you call nine years of what can only be described as pure emotional hell easy then... No, listen to me. All I'm saying is that it's easy for you to be convinced but what about him? How does he feel? If you're too afraid of getting shot down then you're never going to find out if he likes you or not. And he's going to shoot you down. You just know it. So sit tight. This is purgatory, isn't it? Oh yes, you're gonna love it here._

Kyle knows he deserves the torment of Cartman's silence. After all, waiting for your sentence, your fate, is much more agonizing than the actual punishment, right? It's the waiting. Always the waiting. That drives people crazy. Kyle watches with stalled breath as Cartman rolls his eyes and his face breaks into a smile that strains to reach those cunning burnished irises.

_Rip on me. Tell me the truth. Be as honest as you want, Cartman. Because I bet I've thought things about myself this weekend that are much worse than any insult you can throw my way._

Kyle lowers his head and his heart comes into bloom like a flower in his throat. Because Cartman had walked up to him, his sneakers crunching in the snow.

A cold hand touches the side of Kyle's face. _Hit him._

_Slap me._

_No. I can't, not now, not after what happened. What we were. What I fucking want us to be._

_I want it to hurt because then it'll just prove to me what I knew all along. That I'm a fucking mess who took it too far because not only have I hurt myself but I've hurt someone else too. He's hurt, that night meant something to him too. I miss the smell of his clothes, I miss the way he held me, like he could easily break me but he didn't. I want it again, but how could he let himself want me after how I hurt him the first time? He's not stupid. He's right not to trust me._

_No one can see this. No one can see him standing here, looking so pathetic and no one can see me making myself look like a clueless idiot._

_His hand is cold._

_Kiss him._

Cartman lifts Kyle's chin, making Kyle look into his eyes. Their experessions are blank, hard, so difficult to read.

The only noise that can be heard when Cartman presses his lips to Kyle's is the distant grumble of SUVs, the short chirp of the birds above and icy, weak purrs and whimpers.

Kyle clutches Cartman's hair, his eyes shutting desperately and bruising his own mouth in an effort to show Cartman just how sorry he is and how God damn stupid he's been.

The kiss is ended when Kyle falters, breaking away violently from the warmth of Cartman's lips but still gripping his hair.

"I'm sorry I didn't call. I just acted crazy and I started to over think and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... It's just what I do and I hate myself for it and I don't want you to think I was being a total dick and that I regretted what we did, because I don't, I don't regret it all. And I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful or anything because I'm not, I'm so grateful, Cartman-"

"Kahl. You talk too much." Cartman snickers, running his thumb along Kyle's bottom lip. Kyle laughs nervously, rolling his eyes. "Don't freak out, Jew. I'm fine." A part of Cartman knew he was lying. Just like a part of him accepted Kyle unconditionally, for better or worse. Even if he was a lousy, no good, swindiling Jew.

Kyle swallowed the 'fine' that Cartman spoke like it was a pill. Catching Cartman's mouth in a brief kiss of gratitude.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you" Kyle whispered huskily into their kiss. He blushed, but didn't feel embarassed, if he was truly honest he had never felt closer to another person.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you either" Cartman smiles dreamily, almost relieved and yet nervous.

Kyle furrows his eyebrows and presses himself further into Cartman's embrace. He didn't know what else to do. The loss of control was overwhelming and he just wanted Cartman to protect him from it. "I'm so confused, Cartman." He whispers, willing for these hot tears not to run.

Cartman nods, the crash of this conversation from happy to morose was bad. _If I could find a place for us to go then I'd take you there in a heartbeat. We'll pack our bags and leave and I'll make you feel safe again._

"What do we do now?" Kyle asks.

_Whatever you want, Jewboy, as long as it's being with me. Because I may not know a lot about love but I know I've got it bad for you and I can make you feel the same way if you'd let me._

"I don't know" Cartman sighs, shrugging defeatedly. Disappointment and despair swells between the two of them, contagious and terminal.

* * *

The next few weeks were spent in silence. Quite literally.

Stan and Kenny started to worry that Cartman and Kyle's rivalry had escalated to the point where they couldn't fathom spending time together. Even for the sake of the four of them.

"Dude, if I tell you something, you can't call me crazy, okay?" Stan had anxiously said to Kenny when they were getting books out of their lockers.

"Jesus Stan, way to drop a bombshell on me... It's not even 10:30 yet." Kenny replied, though he knew he was just stalling. He knew what Stan wanted to talk about.

"Will you just shut up and let me talk? It's just that I've noticed that Cartman and Kyle are acting weird. I mean, I know they've always hated each other and it pisses me off sometimes, but I kinda liked it because at least the four of us were hanging out. But..."

"What?"

"Now it's like they can't even be in the same room. When we go for a smoke at our place, Cartman leaves before Kyle can show up, or Kyle tries to ignore him and then just leaves... Maybe they've had a really huge fight or said something to each other that was uncalled for, I don't know... But I feel like our whole group dynamic is just going to fall apart and I can't have that happen."

"Aww, Stan that's so sweet" Kenny jokes, doing his best 'sensitive guy' eyes and placing a hand on his heart. Though he knew exactly what Stan meant, he noticed this change too. How couldn't he? The tension that seemed to exsist between the four of them now was so obvious.

"Please tell me you've noticed it too?" Stan pleaded, praying that Kenny would say yes. He didn't want this whole situation to be a product of his over thinking and constant worrying. Panicking seemed to be a trait that Stan and Kyle both shared.

"Yeah I have" Kenny nods, his voice going quiet and he wishes he could end the conversation. He didn't want to be bummed out, it was too early in the morning. "But I don't get it, surely Kyle would have said something was up at your annual hair-braiding, reach-around slumber parties..."

"Yeah, well he hasn't said anything. And every time I ask him he tells me not to worry about it and that everything's fine. But something must have happened... Has Cartman said anything to you?"

Kenny laughs in derision and shakes his head "God, no! Cartman doesn't talk to me about stuff like that."

"I just want things to be the way they were" Stan mutters angrily, kicking the bottom locker, the obnoxious, loud noise making them wince.

"Sucks ass, right?" Kenny replies, trying to smile even though he didn't like what their group was turning into.

"Yeah" Stan whispers, wondering how harder things were sure to become.

* * *

Kyle tried so hard to remember what Cartman had said. _Things only get complicated if we make them complicated, right?_ Kyle even wrote it hundred times on a piece of notebook paper. He read it until the words swam and the letters mutated and it all just didn't make sense anymore.

Sadly, things hadn't just become complicated. It was practically tortorous, wrong to interact with each other. Before the two were bound together with this intangible, unexplainable chemistry and anger that made everything else seem irrelevant, now whenever they saw each other, fear and confusion cut the chords and turned off the lights.

The feelings were still there, Kyle only had to look in Cartman's eyes and feel all that affection and wonder come back. But then there was the loss. This indescribable, horrific feeling that Cartman was just fading, moving closer and closer out of reach.

_He said he was fine. But he's not. I wish he would talk to me. He's still angry with me and I can't blame him. But I know there's something deeper, something he hasn't admitted to himself yet. And neither have I. Fuck it, my name is Kyle Broflovski and I'm in lo-_

_ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!_

_NO. For once in my life I'm actually not second guessing myself or having a bad feeling. Just let me finish, okay? My name is Kyle Broflovski and I'm in love with Eric Cartman. There... There... I'm in love with a narcisstic, evil, manipulative, sadistic, greedy, intolerant, angry sociopath who may or may not be the most amazing, beautiful, vulnerable, captivating boy, well, man that I have ever met and who takes my breath away and makes me feel more special and wanted than anybody has ever made me feel in my entire life._

_Good one genius, really brave stuff... Now can you tell him all that?_

_Crap._

_Didn't think so._

* * *

Cartman had been drawing Kyle a lot more lately. It seemed to be good therapy to ease the pain of not speaking to him for a while. And it wasn't just when he was bored in class, Cartman would draw Kyle when he got home from school, the weekends and in the early hours of the morning. Either when insomnia was driving him crazy or when his sleep became interrupted by vivid dreams and memories of that beautiful daywalker.

Cartman would get out of bed, almost like he was sleep walking, turn the lamp on and sit on his bed, pad and pencil sitting on his lap. His back would ache from when he bent obsessively over the paper, his eyes would be heavy and his hand would almost crush the pencil as he drew Kyle. Delicate, feather-light sketches that kissed the paper in a flourish of shaded grey, would become thick, detailed sketches that resembled a spider's web. Beautiful and intricate and yet somehow unattractive and grotesque in the clear madness and harshness. Cartman would sit, everything, his room, his bed, his life, his head a complete mess. And he would think of nothing except

_His smile isn't as innocent as that. It never has been. It's more cynical and wise, remember that._

_Kahl. Why can't I talk to him again?_

_I should shade around his pupils more. Count the colours in his eyes. Four. There's Emerald, the circumference of his iris is a Forest Green, around his pupils is olive and then there's the tiny flecks of hazel. I didn't realise how many there were until we..._

_I miss him._

Cartman never second guessed himself, he could draw Kyle from memory as easy as he could sketch him in person. Now Kyle was just a muse to him. He'd always had been, but even more so now. Silent and prepossessing. Like a messenger in a dream. He'd never let Kyle become a figment of his imagination. Never.

Cartman would draw until the sun came up, perfecting his sketches until he convinced himself he ruined them. Touching up, shading more, rubbing the paper until the pencil turned to dust under his fingers and his the tip of his digit turned to slate. The small light that flickered nervously through the night was silenced by the morning sun that flooded his room like unwelcome water in a sinking ship.

Sleep deprived, miserable, angry and torn. Living on coffee and Pall Malls. Suicidal enough to chuckle and seriously consider the thought of stepping out in front of the big yellow bus that picked them up every morning. Kenny would cry. Stan would throw up. Cartman didn't know what Kyle would do. Cry when he got home. Wear black for the remainder of his life. Weep in front of a mirror and refuse to talk to anybody before writing a suicide note _I'm coming to see you honey, everything will be okay_ Shotgun in the mouth, brains all over the walls but when Cartman meets him in Hell he'll look flawless. _You're going crazy. Hey, don't blame me. Blame the Jew._

The pencil snapped one night. Well, 4 AM. Cartman had drawn three sketches of Kyle. One when Kyle was smoking a cigarette (one of his favourite poses of Kyle to draw), one in honour for the first time he saw Kyle naked (only his top half, his slender, refined muscles, his washboard stomach, the mouth-watering V of his crotch and obviously Kyle's smiling, siren face) and the third was of Kyle sleeping, drawing Kyle's closed, peaceful eyes made tears spring into Cartman's. But he pushed through the sadness and carried on. The pencil had buckled, caved in, abandoned Cartman in his hour of need. i_You're on your own, kid_. And he hadn't finished the God damn thing yet. _Just get another one you stupid asshole! It's not the end of the world! Yes it is! God fucking damn it don't you get it?! I'm losing it and not in a good way! The pencil has fucking broken and I want to put a bullet through my worthless head! It's just him, him, him, him! The boy who hasn't spoken to me in a month! A fucking month! The boy who avoids me and acts like he's afraid of me! He's never been afraid of me! What is his motherfucking problem?! What's mine? I don't even know but I do know that I need him. I want him. I, I love him so much that I hate myself._

Cartman cried for the rest of the night. Tearing up the drawing of Kyle and sobbing for the first time since elementary school.

"God damn it, Kahl. God damn you, I hope you fucking rot in Hell!" Cartman shouted into his pillow, wiping his tears against the material at the same time. "I think I'll join you and we can be damned together" he mumbled, his laugh hollow and frail.

Cartman ignored the break of morning. He ignored his alarm clock. He ignored his concerned mother. He lay in bed, drained, groggy and depressed. His mouth had turned to sandpaper and his tears had become waxy a long time ago. So now he was just deep in thought. Praying and hoping that if he stayed here long enough, Kyle would rescue him and cast a spell so this could all be forgotten. He was so tired that he was half dreaming, in his mind Kyle could do anything, he was omnipotent and invincible. _Please Jewboy, come wake me from this coma of despair and we can all live happily ever after._

"Eric? Poopsikins?" _Ah, mom, what a pleasant surprise._

"What?" Cartman practically slurred in his dehydrated, fatigued state.

"Is something the matter, sweetie? Are you feeling under the weather?"

"Yeah, mom. Call the school and tell them I'm not coming in today." Cartman ordered, though his words sagged with exhaustion.

"Okay dear, do you want something to eat, hun?"

"No. Don't come in here unless I tell you to, alright?" Cartman sighed, rolling over so he faced away from the door. He didn't care about his mom's response.

"Well... Okay" Lianne finally said, she lingered thoughtfully for a moment, concerned that something else was going on. Eric was a very secretive boy sometimes, so different from his other friends. "You know, Eric, you can always talk to me if you have a problem..."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Cartman deadpanned, his eyes already closing as his tragic fairytale began. He'd be in charge. He was the beginning and he'd figure out the end.

Cartman stayed there for a week.

* * *

Well, his plan failed. After spending a week in his house, mostly in bed, smoking out of his bedroom window and eating because his mom forced him to, Cartman still didn't feel any better. He had actually forgotten what possessed him to do such a thing in the first place. i_Ah, Kahl. That's it. That's what this has all been for. Hasn't everything in your life been for him? Every action is solely for Kahl's reaction, right?._ Still, Kyle didn't rescue him. He could've sworn that Kyle had talked to him once, his voice uninterested and apathetic, but his words were all that mattered and Cartman loved every one. Cartman didn't say anything, he faced the window and watched the snow pick up pace, parasitic flakes multiplying. He wanted to turn around and thank Kyle, tell him that everything was fine because at least they were both here together. But Cartman didn't. His stomach knotted with the temptation, the fear of just doing what his head was telling him to do. But it was just a dream. Lucid and technicolour. The nights had become feverish and he woke up feeling like shit.

It was Friday when Cartman realised that he had lost his mind. Handed it over to Kyle as collateral. _Take it, take it, take it. You've stolen everything else, so why not? You can hang it up on the wall like it's an oil painting and you can sleep easy knowing that you've won. Were you ever really playing? Is this really a game? Or did we just let it go that way? Please, Kahl, just come back to me and I'll come back to you and we can forget about this month. Okay, so it's the morning after we made love and before you can leave I convince you not to, we'll sleep until the afternoon, we'll have something to eat and I can walk you home. Let's pretend that happened, huh? If anybody ever asks, that's what we'll tell them, deal?_

Cartman had been sitting by the window, curled up on the chair from his desk, he stared out of the window at the dancing blizzard and listened to the discordant, hissing music that accompanied it. He saw the mountains erase themselves from his vision, he watched the world fill up with nothing. His arm was practically frozen as he let it dangle out of the window, cigarette balancing loosely in between his fingers. Slowly he peaked his head out and the biting, cold air against his exhausted face was like diving head first into the ocean. His smile was sinister and fake.

"Where are you, Kahl? I'm still waiting to be rescued!" Cartman laughed until he felt like crying.

It occured to him then that maybe Kyle was waiting for him. Maybe he was holed up in his room, praying and wishing that Cartman would pull himself together, man up and make this alright again. _I'm afraid I can't, I'm drowning Jewboy, can't you see?_ So stubborn. So God damn stubborn. _Look what you've done now, you fucking idiots, now you're both screwed._

And Cartman thought that was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

* * *

During the week where Cartman had seemed to vanish, Kyle felt himself start to wither, started to feel the blackened, vicious maggots from the darkest part of his brain chew at his nerves and his veins until they disembowelled him and left him for dead. Which sometimes seemed like the easiest and nicest option. _Just fucking kill me already, I already hate myself, I'm not gonna miss me when I'm gone. Good riddance, fucker._ Three malevolent forces stirred inside him, tore him apart and schemed when he tossed and turned and attempted to sleep.

First, there was guilt. Which turned his memories of Cartman more sour than bittersweet and since he had been thinking obsessively about Cartman, he was left with this vile, acidic taste in his mouth 24/7. The infection spread to his chest and would tighten and swell when his panic attacks flared. Oh, those bad boys had fucking trebled this week.

Then came self loathing. _Why didn't you say something? Why did you leave? Why can't you fucking grow a pair and act like a man, you fucking pussy?! You know how you feel! You love him don't you? So tell him that! But you can't, can you? Because you're a fucking pussy and a coward. You don't deserve him, he deserves somebody who can actually appreciate him for what he is._ He'd want to write these questions in blood on his forearm, but stopped himself just in time. Then he'd have a panic attack, finding it more and more difficult to ride the storm out. And just because Kyle was that much of a masochist, he walked past Cartman's house on his way to the bus stop every morning so he could just imagine what it would be like to walk up to the door and tell him everything he needed to hear.

Then came the withdrawl. After all, he was just a junkie in need of a fix. Giving up Cartman would be harder than giving up all the other vices that stained his life. Now he was realising the extent of it all. He could feel himself hunger, feel himself get desperate and lost in his callous thoughts. He had hardly spoken this past week, that pang of disappointment refusing to shift every time he went to the bus stop and saw that Cartman was still missing. The gap was aching and unavoidable, there were no insults for him to talk back at, no ecstatic, filthy adrenaline to keep him going and no one to challange him, flirt with the boundaries of enemies and something more. There was no Cartman and Kyle felt like the part of himself that he actually had a little bit of respect for, had disappeared too.

* * *

Kyle had to use all of his restraint to not run up to Cartman and break down in his arms on that Monday morning when he strolled to the bus stop, moody and unusually quiet.

"Hey, long time no see!" Kenny smiled, nudging Cartman before he shoved him right back. The two of them messing around childishly and laughing like little kids.

"Yeah dude, where have you been?" Stan asks, his eyes softening with concern. Something was different and unsettiling. Stan didn't like that.

"I don't believe it's any of your God damn business! Hippie." Cartman snapped.

"Mellow out, Christ..." Stan muttered back, though secretly relieved that Cartman was still ripping on him. Maybe things were going to get back to normal soon...

"You look like shit, Cartman" Kyle grinned, albeit rather cautiously, trying his best to hide his concern. I_ need to make things the way they were, I don't know how he feels towards me but I don't know how else to figure it out._

"Better than you, skinny bitch" Cartman smiles back and even though Stan and Kenny were standing in between them, the brief look they shared made them feel like they were the only two people in this town.

_How could I ever forget how fucking beautiful you are, Jew? It's unfair. God, I've missed you, you've driven me fucking crazy and you don't even know it. I'd tell you how much, Hell, I'd show you much but these two fucking assholes are in the way._

_That's better. Now he's here. I need to talk to him alone, I can make this right again. Are you sure? Yes._

* * *

"I gotta be honest, last week really freaked me out. I, I didn't realise how much I need you around. It's scary." Kyle had finally admitted after fifteen minutes of silence.

Kyle had ditched class so he had the chance to talk to Cartman during his free period. He didn't know exactly what he was going to say, he'd written some stuff down this morning, when he was in English and not really paying attention. The class was a fucking joke as far as he was concerned. Still, whatever he wrote didn't seem to be enough, it didn't seem to be what he really wanted to say. So he figured he should wait until he saw Cartman to say something to him. He hoped that the words would come easily that way.

But they've been leaning against the wall in their secluded spot for fifteen minutes, smoking in silence.

"Really?" Cartman mumbled.

Kyle nodded, his face serious and he felt some kind of relief. He couldn't trust his emotions right now.

"Well, Jewboy, since we're sharing, last week wasn't too good for me either." _That's an understatement, jackass._

"Because of me?" Kyle asked curiously. _Who are you kidding? You know God damn well it was because of what you did._

_Go on, tell him. You have to be honest with him. He's the lo-_ Cartman nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Cartman" Kyle whispers, lowering his head in shame, biting his lip and wishing that he could control these angry, remorseful tears.

"Don't. I wanna just forget about it, okay? What I did was stupid and I don't know what I was trying to prove. I got a little crazy and screwed my head up even more."

Kyle looked up, their eyes meeting. _You have a beautiful smile, Cartman. Do you know that?_ They stared at each other, lovesick and grateful.

"Look, I'm sorry too." Cartman said uncomfortably. God, he hated that word.

"Why?"

"Kahl, you've got to stop putting all this blame on yourself, okay? It's not just you who fucked up. We both did." Cartman said sternly and impatiently.

Kyle nodded, letting Cartman's words sink in. He doubted he could let himself believe them. "So much for not making things complicated, huh?" Kyle joked.

Cartman rolled his eyes and laughed, shaking his head before saying "We're too messed up to not make things complicated..."

"Yeah" Kyle replies "I think I'm crazier than I already was, thanks to you, fatass, but... I don't know, I worry too much and I overthink and I don't let ever let myself believe that good things can happen. Perhaps because I don't want to get disappointed? I thought that us ever becoming something more after what we did that night was just too good to be true. I need to give myself a fucking break, I just don't think I'm good enough to be happy." Kyle had never admitted that to anybody, not even to Stan. Mostly because he didn't want to Stan to worry about him. He couldn't believe how easily he was telling Cartman all this, though a part of him feared he wouldn't understand.

"Kahl, look at me" Cartman says softly, delicately touching the side of Kyle's face and bringing their eyes together "I've known you all my life and I'm still to meet a person who I love and hate as much as you. You're special, I really mean it... You deserve all the happiness in the world."

The blush instantly crept onto Kyle's face and he felt his heart hammer dangerously loud as Eric Cartman, the least likely person in the world, said the kindest, most loving thing anybody has ever said to him. _Thanks, but all I really want is you, Cartman._

"Fuck off" Kyle laughs, shrugging Cartman away.

"I'm serious, Jew." Cartman grinned. They ignored the view that was stretched out in front of them, they ignored the mountains and the streets and the clear February sky. They just looked at each other. Cartman's face turned serious and his eyes lowered when he whispered "You are crazy though. We're both totally messed up."

"Pretty much" Kyle sighed.

"Nothing wrong with that though, right?" Cartman smirked.

"I don't know" Kyle replies, taking a drag of his cigarette. "I don't wanna be a freak."

Cartman thought for a bit before replying "Well, that's not really up to you, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

Cartman sighs, laughing in a slightly irritated way "Look at us, Kahl. It's February, it's fucking freezing and we're hanging out at the back of the school, warming ourselves up with our Marlboro's and Pall Mall's and trying to ignore the smell of piss and stale cafeteria food. And why? Because nobody gives a fuck about us and we don't give a fuck about them. You, me, Stan and Kenny... We're different. And once you've reached the town limits, you might as well just keep going until you reach freak city, right?"

"I guess so" Kyle mutters. _That doesn't sound so bad. Do I really care what people think? As long as he's around... I think I'll be okay_.

"And if I'm going there with anybody, might as well be you" Kyle smiles, admiring the colours in Cartman's eyes.

"What are you saying?" Cartman asks, kind of confused as to where the Jew was getting at.

Kyle rolls his eyes and laughs, exasperated. _God, he looks so cute right now. Maybe I should kiss him, then he'll know what I'm talking about._

"I'm saying that I want to be more than what we are now." Kyle smirks, edging closer to Cartman.

_HOLY FUCK, HE'S ASKING YOU OUT. THIS IS WHAT YOU'VE BEEN WISHING FOR YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. BE COOL, BE COOL, BE COOL... IF YOU FUCK THIS UP-_

"Which is?" Cartman teases, his tongue flicking coolly across his teeth.

_Kiss him. Fuck, why is he so God damn hot?_

Kyle rolls his eyes and throws his cigarette on the floor, crushing it with his sneaker. _Be seductive! For once in your life be sexy!_ He walks up to Cartman, keeping his eyes half-lidded and his smile coy. _Holy shit Jewboy, what are you gonna do? Go down on me or something? I kinda hope that he does._ Kyle knocks Cartman's legs apart with his knee and slides into his embrace, their aroused groins rubbing together, their lips centimetres apart and their hazy, lust-filled eyes locked on each other.

"My boyfriend. I want you to be my boyfriend, you fucking retard." Kyle says huskily, with just a tinge of anger and frustration.

"And what would that involve?" Cartman whispers, his voice velvety.

"Well" Kyle smirks "We'd go on dates, hold hands in public, acknowledge that we have feelings for each other and have sex on a regular basis."

Both of them felt an overexcited warmth rush to their groins at that last part.

"That's fine with me" Cartman replies before he makes Kyle melt with a slow, teasing kiss.

_And they all lived happily ever after._


End file.
